Strawberry Remix
by Grimrose Eilwynn
Summary: The eldest Kurosaki child is a bundle of contradictions, and is not exactly something that Rukia, let alone the Soul Society, was prepared for. A fem Ichigo story. Eventual IchigoxToshiro, IchigoxByakuya. A remake of my original story Strawberry.
1. Chapter 1

_Author's Notes:_ I've decided to redo my original fem Ichigo story, _Strawberry_. This is chapter 1. I'm focusing more on the anime this time.

To head off questions - Sado and Ichigo aren't friends yet because Ichigo attracted sexual harassment, not gangsters, and she was saved by Tatsuki and Orihime, not Sado.

Don't worry. Sado got the parakeet.

* * *

 **Strawberry Remix**

1.

I woke up to the bloody face of a dead little girl hanging over me.

"AAAH!" I shrieked, sitting upright too quickly and slamming my head against the headboard. I hissed and grabbed my head, my eyes squinted half-closed as I glared up at her.

"Ichigo?!" more than one family member called up to my bedroom. "You okay?!"

"Yeah…" I moaned, straightening and clutching my head. "Just another fucking ghost!"

"We do not say fuck in this house!" shouted my Dad.

"We say whatever the fuck we want to in this house!" I shouted back. " _We_ do all the cooking and cleaning!" My mother had died years ago and I was the oldest daughter. Lucky me.

"This house is not a democracy!" my father boomed from his bedroom.

"Hell yes it is!" I yelled. "Don't make me come down there and punch some sense into you, Goat-Chin!" Refusing to call such a childish man by the more formal title of "father", my sisters and I instead referred to him as "Goat-Chin" because of his black beard.

The neighbors could probably hear us. Whatever. What was new?

"Masaki, our daughters are being _mean_ to me again…" Dad whined.

"She can't hear you, Dad, she didn't become a ghost!" I shouted back in exasperation. Finally I turned to the ghost of the little girl. "Yes?" I snapped, and she jumped a little. "What do you want?"

I'd been able to see ghosts since before I could remember. My sisters could, too. Our Dad couldn't. We'd always kind of figured it was because we'd grown up one floor above our father's local hospital clinic. You help a doctor with nursing duties enough, you see a few people die. Growing up in that kind of environment can do things to a person. From there, it's not a huge jump to seeing the imprints of the dead souls that their bodies leave behind.

I took a closer look at this little girl. She seemed innocent enough. Pigtailed, in a striped tank top. Looked about ten. Had all the usual hallmarks of the dead: transparent, floating, chain hanging from her chest, obvious signs of death (it looked like she'd been shot in the eyeball; I'll spare you the gory details).

"W-well…" Her hands were twisting nervously around themselves, her shoulders hunched. "W-well, I just wanted… maybe…"

I sighed irritably. "Look," I said. "It is 4:45 in the morning. I'm not even very diplomatic when I'm fully awake and have had my morning tea. Just say what you came to say. I'm used to it. Let me guess: you need a way to find peace and all the other ghosts around here told you to come to me because I can see the dead better than anyone else in Tokyo, including my sisters. Am I right?"

The little girl nodded hopefully.

"So what do you need?"

"Th-there are some skateboarders bothering my final resting place," she stammered out. "They keep breaking things and leaving graffiti and old beer bottles and cigarette butts. They're really loud and crass and they swear a lot. Sometimes they smoke pot there. And I just thought… maybe…"

"You want me to get rid of them without killing them," I guessed.

She nodded so fast it looked like her blood-stained little head was about to bob off.

"Okay." I got up, shuffled over to my desk, and checked my calendar. "I am free today from exactly 4:30 to 6:30. You think they'll be there during those times?"

"Well, yes, but… What will you do?" The little girl looked up at me tentatively.

I stared down at her, reserved, wondering what to say. I'd been a real wimp as a little girl, shy and daydreamy and friendless. It didn't help that I had weirdly colored hair (it was this coppery orange red color, quite unnatural for Japan) and it also didn't help that I'd had trouble telling the difference between the living and the dead as a little kid, making it look like I was sometimes talking to people who "weren't really there." I'd been called into the school therapist's office a couple of times. No joke.

Then my Mom had died and I'd actually needed a therapist and I wasn't called in to see one once. I felt like my mother's death was my fault - I still felt like that, actually, and it had been six years. But by now, I'd accepted myself as an essentially selfish person, not fit for the heroic-for-strangers role, so that didn't bother me as much as it used to. At the time, I'd struggled with this new concept of myself and my part in my mother's death had bothered me a lot. I don't think anyone knew what to do with me. By the time I'd hit middle school and started experiencing sexual harassment because of my exotic hair color, I'd been a chronic cutter and about ready to blow my own head off and no way in hell was I sticking around here in this world when it happened.

But then a girl named Tatsuki had seen me being picked on and defended me - her friend Orihime had pointed me out to Tatsuki, recognizing me from the scene at the hospital the day her brother had died. I'd comforted her that day, and she must have felt a certain fondness toward the memory. Tatsuki was a black belt in karate, and after I became friends with her _nobody_ picked on me. Wanting that kind of strength for myself and my little sisters, I'd gotten her to teach me some karate moves, and from there I'd gone on to becoming a black belt myself. I was currently a black belt in my karate club at Karakura High School, and around mid-rank in kendo club (which had no belts) under the instruction of older girl Asano Mizuho, who'd taken me under her wing as the first other female who'd shown an interest in the sport.

I wasn't suicidal or a cutter anymore. I had several friends in Tatsuki, Orihime, and their friends Chizuru, Ryou, Mahana, and Michiru. I had another friend in Mizuho. I was successful in school and at karate and kendo clubs and I'd gained some much needed self confidence.

But how to explain all that to a little girl?

"I'll take care of it," was all I said at last. "Now give me the address and then shoo."

* * *

My bedroom was eccentric, reflecting the two sides of me. It was colored in neutrals, light greens, yellows, and greys. There was a jute rug by my bed, and most of my furniture was reclaimed wood. A lot of natural elements, such as woven grasses, dried woods, and living plants (including some lavender, my favorite flower) added a bit of life to the space, and there was a comfy nook with a sleek modern chair near the bookcase where I could read, listen to music, and watch film.

But in the bookcase were classic bluesy and punk rocker vinyls for my record player, horror novels and films, big classical dog-eared old books, and volumes of poetry. Splashed across the light green and yellow walls were bold red and black posters, one of whom featured Megara, another of whom featured The Shining, another of whom featured The Others; Paramore and Amy Winehouse made their appearance too, along with Lana Del Rey, Adele, Beyonce, Elle King, Gin Wigmore, and ZZ Ward. A guitar leaned in another corner, and littered across the vast desk nearby were notebooks full of doodles and poetry, mingled with highlighting pens and countless little post-it notes scribbled on in large letters, and a positively alarming amount of electronics. (My electronics were literally my life. One day I was going to be someone important, like a lawyer or an internationally traveling businesswoman, who clutched her electronics like they were her children and who took vacations to Italy, biking through vineyards, or backpacked through Europe and South Asia. I'd promised it to myself.) A collage of photographs of myself with my friends and family was taped to the wall above the desk. A tall body length desk light, its stem-like stand looping in fantastic swirl patterns, hung above the desk, currently unused.

My bed was covered with a checkered flannel quilt, the warm sheets flecked with crumbs and entirely cozy, the pillows extra-fluffed. I'd sewn my pillowcases myself, along with my window curtains. I'd stenciled all my favorite quotes to the walls, most of them having to do with self confidence.

I grabbed my jogging clothes from off the back of the comfy desk chair, next to the oversized leather boho-inspired bag hanging in the same place. And I went off to do my morning run.

We lived in a calm, quiet residential neighborhood. Usually my iPod was my connection to the outside world, but on early-morning jogs I simply liked to enjoy the silence. As I was running, the sky was just turning pink, the air dewy and delicate in the fresh dawn, the sun just beginning to peek over the horizon. I came back feeling restored, and took a shower complete with body wash and shampoo, being extra careful with the scars on my wrists. I was tall and slim, with long legs and a tight little ass, on the plus side; on the minus side, I was shaped like a long rectangular box. I had a warm gold skin tone.

Back in my bedroom, I opened my dresser drawers and began thumbing through clothes. Aside from my school uniforms, my more casual clothes mainly consisted of skinny jeans and huge graphic tees, in Autumn shades; I'd mastered four hairstyles and they all started with "messy," my favorite of which was "messy bun." (I cut my hair myself; it was long, straight, and naturally copper colored, not hard to manage, and I didn't like people commenting over my hair color.) Littered on top of the dresser were DIY bracelets, dangling bone and wood earrings, warm spice and flame red lipsticks, almond blush, cocoa eyeliner to go with my warm brown eyes, and a peppery, orange blossomy perfume called Black Opium that was hella expensive but whatever YOLO you know what I mean? Each of my nails was painted a different color.

But today was a school day, so on came the uniform, then the aforementioned "messy bun," the makeup, and the perfume. I went downstairs into the kitchen to stuff my newly-charged smartphone and iPod into my bookbag and make breakfast - always green tea, sweet natto, and fruit. I loved spicy food and chocolate, but I was a health nut and I only allowed myself such things on special occasions. In a reflection of my interests, my kitchen was completely eco-friendly, filled with lots of stainless steel and coastal colors and round edges, a bowl of fresh fruit sitting on the countertop.

As I was making breakfast, I fed my cat. I'd adopted him from a shelter. He slept at my feet, but I kept my bedroom door open and he was always awake even before me. I wasn't sure what kind of life he'd had before I'd adopted him, but he was ever alert and wary, preferred the outdoors, and always made sure he was up before everybody else in the house. He was a Russian Blue named Daisuke, and he was very calm, quiet, and independent, good with kids like my sisters. Those were my biggest four qualifications. His native dignity was both amusing and an added bonus. He was one of those cats who knew he was born to be a king.

I was actually pretty sure cats could see ghosts, on an added side note. Or at least, this cat could. He kind of meowed at dead people I was talking to a lot.

My sisters eventually shuffled into the kitchen, yawning, in pajamas with rumpled hair. I set their plates down in front of them. "Eat up," I said. "I might be home a little late," I added, bustling around in the kitchen. "Another ghost needs my help."

" _Another_ one?" Yuzu asked disbelievingly. "That's the third one this week!"

"Yeah. More of them have been coming to me than ever. They say I 'have a good feel to me.' Whatever that means." I frowned, troubled, gazing unseeingly into one of the kitchen cabinets.

"Man, that bites," said Karin casually, taking her seat at the table. "So how did that art project you were working on turnout?"

I worked hard at all my classes, to hit back at the school rumor that I was a _Yankee_ \- a female gangster with dyed hair - but my sisters knew art class was my favorite.

"It ended up being a small-town scifi mural complete with people being eaten by giant creatures," I replied.

"Awesome!" said Karin brightly. "Can I see it?"

I pulled it out of my bookbag and showed it to her. Just then, Dad strolled in and peeked over her shoulder. "And my cute little girl made - ugh." He paused, staring. I smiled proudly at all the blood and gore. "I think my cute little girl needs therapy sessions," he muttered, grabbing his tea and heading into his office in the clinic, which occupied the bottom and front part of the house.

"Don't forget your food!" I called after him.

"My sweet, concerned child, I know you secretly adore your manly father -!" He flew at me, arms wide open for a suffocating "Daddy-style" embrace.

I put my fist right where his face was about to be and he fell over.

"Just get your damn breakfast," I said, irritated.

* * *

My sisters and I parted outside the house, walking our separate ways to school.

I stopped by the alleyway the ghost of the little girl had told me about, leaving an offering of a bouquet of white lilies in an empty milk bottle. I wanted to check something. Then I hurried back to my usual route to school, and I fell into step with Orihime and Tatsuki on our way toward Karakura High School.

"Where were you?" Tatsuki asked curiously.

"I had to meet somebody about something," I said vaguely. "So what's up?"

"Nothing much. We were just talking about a new show coming up on Comedy Central." It was Orihime's favorite channel. "So are you going to Harajuku again this weekend, Ichigo?" Orihime asked.

"I've been afraid to show my face as a Goth Lolita since you two glued paper strawberries all over my black parasol," I said.

Tatsuki snickered. "But your name is so cute!" said Orihime in protest. "And Chizuru always says you look super hot in that outfit!"

"An excellent reason not to wear it," I returned flatly. Chizuru was a flaming lesbian and was a part of the local LGBT sector. Usually she flirted with Orihime, but she made a special exception for me when I was in my Goth Lolita getup.

"But if you don't dress up, we don't get to go to the Alcatraz ER themed restaurant anymore!" Orihime said, pouting.

"Oh, geez, Orihime," said Tatsuki in exasperation. "We can still go to the restaurant. You don't have to look all sad about it. Be sad instead about Ichigo _no longer being able to express her goth side_."

"Oh, that _is_ sad!" said Orihime in realization, and Tatsuki burst out laughing.

"I'm gonna fuckin' kill you, Tatsuki!" I growled, raising a fist.

"Ooh, go ahead and try it. Rematch Number Fifteen, Kurosaki Ichigo versus Arisawa Tatsuki!" Tatsuki got into a stance. We weren't serious. We play-shoved each other all the way to school.

"Look at you adorable girls, giggling and shoving each other! I should take a picture!" That squeal came from Chizuru. She had officially Arrived.

"Take a picture and I'll kill you." That was Tatsuki, who had no patience for Chizuru's squealing.

"Why do I hang around with you losers again?" Mizuho asked, hand on her hip.

"Because despite the fact that you're older, you're a loser just like us," said Michiru helpfully, clutching her latest stuffed animal.

Mahana was shouting, "Catfight! Catfight!" She just wanted something to gossip about.

Ryou had retreated into her latest mystery novel, her long track legs stretched out casually before her. This was just another day in the life for me and my friends.

I sighed and went forward to stop the oncoming catfight before Orihime could start crying.

* * *

I had tiger pictures posted up all over my binders, with the Green Day logo in pride of place. I took detailed notes in every class, snacking on trail mix in between classes.

Despite my seemingly reserved, good-girl appearance, I was seen as a bit wild by my classmates. I disliked authority, didn't follow the rules, and was purposefully and flamboyantly myself. My intention always to be genuine was usually communicated nonverbally to others, who seemed to appreciate it. Basically, I did what I wanted.

Let me add a caveat: everyone seemed to appreciate it, except for my teachers. Most of them except Ochi-sensei hated me. Ochi-sensei, however, was kind of my mentor. She met up with me frequently, offered advice, checked up on how I was doing, and was unusually lenient with me. She said I "had more potential than I gave myself credit for."

Me and my friends had our favorite lunch spot, sitting cross-legged in a circle in the grass under a tree behind the main building. We had our bentos - I always made the same bento three times for me and my sisters every day; today's bento was smoked salmon and avocado sushi and green tea frozen yogurt with sesame seed brittle shards - and we chatted. Favorite love songs were discussed, as were horoscopes.

I was reserved as I admitted, "My favorites are 'The Only Exception' by Paramore, 'Hello' by Adele, 'Wonder' by Lauren Aquilina, and by Taylor Swift - 'Last Kiss', 'All Too Well', 'Stay Stay Stay', 'You Are In Love', and 'Begin Again'." There were lots of oohs and aahs of agreement as I named different songs. Talking openly about something as gushy as romance made me uncomfortable.

"You're such a Cancer!" Mahana squealed.

My birthday was July 15th, just a few days apart from Tatsuki's, who apparently "just fit into the cusp of Leo." Whatever kind of bullshit _that_ meant.

"For the hundredth time, _astrology means nothing. It's a bunch of people making shit up to scare you into staying away from certain other people,_ " I said, leaning forward, my eyes widening.

There were several shouts of protest.

"Astrology is my life!" Chizuru said indignantly.

"Besides, the true point of astrology isn't to scare you away from other people. It's to help you learn how to interact with them on a more meaningful and cooperative level," said Orihime, nodding wisely. She was a student mental and physical health counselor, so she knew fancy words like that.

"You are living proof astrology is worth something, Ichigo," said Tatsuki in dry amusement. "No offense, but it's true. You are, like, the classic Cancer." Tatsuki was on the student disciplinary committee, and she did not need to know fancy words. Her job was to bluntly punish people.

Irritated - I was a hardened skeptic; I did not believe in anything from God to astrology to psychics - I was about to respond, when a voice came from behind me. An unpleasantly familiar voice.

"Hey, Kurosaki. Looking hot today." A smirk in the tone. _Oh, great._

I whirled around, glaring. "Ooshima, you just have the most amazing pickup lines. Like the other day when you asked me how high I was in my social media profile pictures? Classic smooth guy. It's amazing, really, that you don't have a girlfriend."

My friends snickered. Ooshima was a big, stupid lug with dyed hair and a nose ring. He seemed to enjoy sexually harassing me. It was my hair color. He was attracted to it because he, like everybody else, thought it meant I was a rebellious gangster. Most people didn't dare cross me anymore, but Ooshima was that special rare combination of strong, stupid, ugly, and completely unaware of the fact that he was ugly.

"I mean it," said, gathering steam, "I mean, _Looking hot today_. How attractive is that?! Instead of complimenting me on stupid, meaningless things like my intelligence or my strength or my artistic side or my loyalty to my friends and family, you tell me I look hot! Clearly you focus on the important things. What more could a girl ask for?"

"Fuck off, Kurosaki, or I'll have to shut your damn mouth for you!" he growled, scowling. His little followers behind him were looking between us in growing fear.

"Ooh, I'm terrified," I said sarcastically. "I can't tell, Ooshima, if you think that if you sexually harass me enough one of these days I'll actually be interested, or if you just like pissing me off. Oh, and by the way? Physically threatening me? Not helping your chances."

Ooshima reared for a punch, and I went to block, but it wasn't even my hand that caught the fist. It was Tatsuki's.

"Don't get me wrong," she said flatly, glaring daggers. "Ichigo could totally take you on and win. But that doesn't mean she should have to, does it? You want Ichigo, you're gonna have to go through _me_ first."

"And me," said Orihime, standing firmly. Tatsuki had also taught her hand to hand, though she'd never gotten seriously into it like I had.

"So what's it gonna be, Ooshima?" I said, faux casual, leaning back on my hands. "Are you gonna try beating the shit out of three teenage girls, or are you just gonna leave?"

"... One of these days you're going to be sorry, Kurosaki," said Ooshima, backing up. "One of these days you're going to be sorry you keep turning me down."

"I'm sure," I said dryly, and he left. I rolled my eyes.

I turned back to my friends. "What were we talking about again?"

* * *

Karate and kendo clubs were after school, one right after the other. Tatsuki was head of karate club, Mizuho was head of kendo club.

I started out exercising myself, something I did every day without fail, regardless of how busy I was. I did pushups and situps, punched and kicked punching bags, went on runs around the mat. I had my iPod in, and I had a whole workout playlist on it, chalk-full of strong, bitch-ass women to get me motivated. Today's menu included "6 Inch" and "Daddy Lessons" by Beyonce, "Last Damn Night" by Elle King, "Man Like that" by Gin Wigmore, "Put the Gun Down" by ZZ Ward, "Ignorance" by Paramore, "Real Girls" by Chantal Claret, "Better Than Revenge" by Taylor Swift, and a reading of Maya Angelou's poem "Phenomenal Woman." Some of them were rather cruel songs, but I had a thing for cruel women - I could be one myself.

"Kurosaki!" I pulled my earpieces out and looked up. Off the mat, I was Ichigo for Tatsuki. On the mat, I was Kurosaki - my surname. I preferred it that way. Ichigo was a cutesy name. Kurosaki was tougher, somehow. "Come over here and help me through the forms!"

I was basically a second president of the karate club. The only reason I wasn't actually a second president was because I didn't want to put in the time commitment and I had issues with putting myself in a position of authority. I hated authority figures. No way in hell was I _becoming_ one.

I helped Tatsuki teach the other members of the club some new forms, then we got to sparring. I sparred with a few lower-ranked people, stopping periodically to teach them how to do something correctly, then I sparred with Tatsuki. She was the only one who was really a challenge for me anymore. Sometimes I won, sometimes she did.

"You know," Tatsuki said at the end, as we were standing there, sweaty and breathing hard, "you really should compete in the national tournaments like me. You're good enough."

"Eh. I ain't interested," I said, stoical.

"You're not interested in anything." Tatsuki grinned, teasing me, her eyes dancing. "That's not an excuse!"

"I'm interested in some things!" I defended myself.

"Oh, really? You get good grades to prove the people wrong who call you a Yankee. You read and write poetry, but you won't publish anywhere. You play electric guitar and like the punk look, but you're not in a band. You love gritty crime and horror movies and novels, but you're not a part of film club. And you're one of the best fighters in the nation, but you won't lead any fight clubs or compete anywhere. Have I missed something?"

"Tatsuki." I sobered. "You know why I won't allow myself those things."

"You've got to stop blaming yourself for your Mom's death eventually." I glared sideways at her, crescent-moon shaped amber brown eyes narrowing, and she held up her hands in a gesture of surrender. "I'm just saying," she said, and moved past me. "Take five, Kurosaki."

And from karate club, I just changed into my kendo gear and went straight to kendo. I always brought my equipment, like my wooden sword, with me. In kendo, I was less experienced, so I went through the forms Mizuho showed us with everyone else and then sparred with Mizuho.

"My brother has the biggest crush on you, you know," she said today as we sparred.

"Keigo?" I said, raising an eyebrow, as I blocked and parried. "From my class? He's a lecherous pervert. Why hasn't he stuck his hand up my skirt or something?"

Mizuho grinned. "Because he's terrified of you. So is Mizuiro, by the way. I can never tell with Sado."

" _No one_ can ever tell with Sado," I pointed out. "I don't think I've ever actually heard him speak. Or, like, show emotion. Ever."

Mizuho laughed.

Did guys sometimes dislike it when girls were the ones teaching them how to fight? Yeah, it happened. A guy would challenge our authority, we would beat the living shit out of him, he would be forced to eat some humble pie. That was how it worked. When it came to me and Tatsuki, the older guys complained more than the ones our age, though.

"Yeah, we're fifteen and we're better than you," Tatsuki would snap. "We should be people you aspire to."

I quit kendo early and went to go change.

"Leaving so soon, Kurosaki?" Mizuho called to me as I left.

"I've got family stuff!" I called back over my shoulder. It was sort of true. I _did_ have family stuff - I had to be home to make dinner by 6:30. That just wasn't why I was leaving early.

I took a shower in the school gym locker rooms, changed back into my uniform, reapplied makeup and perfume, and headed out with my bookbag.

It was time to head back to that alleyway and see if the skateboarders were there. Help another ghost pass on.

* * *

I watched them from the shadows. It had to be them - the skateboarders. They were messing around with each other in the alley, which was now layered with a thin coat of grime, broken bottles, and cigarette butts. Graffiti had been splashed on the walls. As I watched, one of the skateboarders missed his friend and smashed right into the offering. It fell with a shattering of broken glass and water and ruined petals went everywhere, mingling in a puddle with the brown from the street, offending Tokyo's very reputation as one of the cleanest cities in the world, not that I cared much about Tokyo's reputation. But I did care about people littering needlessly and disrespecting the dead. Both actions, in my opinion, deserved a special level of Hell.

There were snickers and some shouts of "Oooh…" They didn't look remotely repentant. I'd been wondering if the offering would stop them - apparently, no go. The little girl floated, distressed, in the corner, her gaze wide and afraid. My eyes narrowed.

I put my book bag down and sighed, stepping into the alleyway and leaning against the far wall, my arms crossed. "I'm sorry, boys, but I'm going to have to ask you to leave," I said, faux casual.

They all whirled around. There's this thing guys do when they first see a girl. Their eyes pause - and then go down, and then up. Right in the chest and hips area.

"You want a better view," I said sarcastically, "you should focus on here," I pointed to my legs, "and here," I turned around and pointed at my ass. They grinned, leering. I smirked and added, "And while you're at it, you can kiss _here_." I was still pointing at my ass.

Their faces flushed, their leers turning into scowls. "Bitch!" one shouted. "I'm going to teach you some manners!" He charged at me - I kicked him right across the face and he went down in a single hit. Pathetic.

"Shit! Shit!" The others were backing up, looking alarmed.

"And now here's the part where you go, _Oh terrible spirit, why do you trouble me_?" I sighed, stepping forward. "Okay, guys, here's the deal. A little girl died here last week. And that?" I pointed at the ruined vase of flowers. "That's my offering to her that you smashed into and ruined with your skateboards. So I'm gonna cut you a deal: you go find somewhere else to be a jackass, and I won't break your kneecaps." The little girl's eye widened as I smiled.

The rest of them were about to leave, but some moron let his testosterone and his ego get in the way. "Hey!" he said indignantly. "There are more of us! Why should we have to go anywhere?!"

And then the others realized he was right, and began a tentative chorus of, "... Yeah! Yeah!"

I smirked. I'd been hoping for this.

I ran toward them and leaped upward, bending my legs in a midair split, and I kicked two in the face; they went down in showers of blood with broken noses. I landed deftly, swept one's feet, and elbowed him in the face on the way down. I pulled out my sheathed wooden sword and hit one over the head with the handle, sinking the other end into the gut of the one behind me.

And then I was standing there calmly, surrounded by six downed, groaning thugs. I put my sword at my back again.

I walked up to the first guy, who seemed to be the leader, and kicked him in the balls. "You come around here again, you little fucker, and people will be bringing you flowers." I scowled and walked away as he lay there groaning, blood gushing from his face.

I bent over, picked up the vase of flowers, and put the ruined flowers back inside the milk bottle. Then I left the alleyway, grabbing my book bag and making to leave.

I felt more than heard the little girl run up behind me.

"I scared them and beat the crap out of them. They shouldn't be back. I'll bring fresh flowers soon and clean the place up for you," I said, expressionless, looking back over my shoulder. "D'you need anything else?"

"No. Thank you. I'm sure I'll be left in peace…" she began shyly. Then she smiled and added more boldly, "Oneechan."

Great. Another little girl who looked up to me. Wasn't two little sisters enough? It wasn't that I disliked any of them, it was just… could they not see what a horrible role model I was?

"Look," I said, backing up, "just pass on already, will ya?"

And, like a coward, I fled the alleyway.

* * *

I got home and went around the backway, slipping off shoes, wooden sword, book bag, heading into the kitchen and living room area. "I'm home!" I announced, walking toward the kitchen to make dinner.

"Thank God! I'm starving, kitchen slave!" Karin called from where was lazed on the couch, watching TV.

"What was that? You don't want me to make dinner? You can do it for yourself? Is that what you said?" I cleared my ear as if to check my hearing.

"Sorry, Ichi-nee."

"That's what I thought."

"Sweet daughter of mine, you come home later and grow farther from me every day!" my father cried dramatically. He charged toward me, his arms open. "Come, be embraced against your father's manly chest -!"

This time the fist went in his gut. "Dad, you're being weird again. If you ruin dinner and I have to start from scratch, you're not getting any," I said flatly, towering over his prone form with my hands on my hips. "And I'm not growing away from you, Dad. I'm just busy."

"Oh, I don't know about that," said Yuzu. "You've had less time for us since you started high school, too, Nee-chan."

"We're all agreed! We should stage an Ichigo intervention! There should be cake!" Dad announced.

"No cake. No intervention. _Busy_." I glared slightly for effect.

Dad was unfazed. "I will say it again: this house is not a democracy!"

"It sure as hell is. Do you even know how to cook and clean for yourself? What if I staged a protest and stopped doing anything, huh? What then?" I put a hand on my hip, annoyed.

"Dad, stop pissing off Ichi-nee, I don't want to have to do my own laundry!" Karin exclaimed.

"My own daughters turning against me," said Dad, wounded, flinching away as if struck. He was kidding. Dad was always kidding. "It must be puberty!"

"Dad, as evidenced by how you handled my first period, you know _nothing_ about female puberty," I said, chopping up ingredients. "Which is kind of surprising, considering the fact that you're a doctor." The twins giggled.

"I told you that you weren't dying!" Dad protested.

"Yeah, Dad. Spectacular parenting moment. Now go sit over there and wait for dinner to be done." I glared and pointed.

Dad went wailing to the memorial of Mom. He talked to it every day.

"Can I help you?" I looked around in surprise to find Karin standing there. She was dressed just like me - skinny jeans, big graphic tee, long hair tied back in a messy bun, bracelets. The only difference was she was pale and cool-skinned with black eyes and hair. Karin really admired me - wanted to be just like me.

It made me uncomfortable, because on one hand I did truly try to take care of my sisters and be a female presence for them, the kind of female presence I hadn't had when I was a preteen. (Tatsuki's Mom had had to teach me about tampons.) I'd taught my sisters basic self defense, helped them with their homework, told them about being a woman, that kind of thing.

But on the other hand, I didn't think of myself as a particularly good role model, or as a naturally heroic person - I was too cold and clinical, somewhat bizarre, hopelessly rebellious, essentially selfish and not good in the whole golden-shining-armor spotlight. The last time I'd tried to be the heroine, all it had done was kill my Mom. I wanted more than that for my sisters.

So I tried to encourage individual traits in Karin, like her caustic sense of humor, her friendships with several boys, and her love of soccer. Same with Yuzu's emotional freeness and artistic obsessions with dressing up and making dolls.

"Sure," I said, moving aside so Karin could join me. "Finish chopping this up, okay? Be sure to curl your fingers so the ends don't get cut." I justified it to myself by saying Karin _should_ know how to cook.

Yuzu said idly from the table, "Nee-chan, you have a new 'friend' haunting you."

I whirled around to find the ghost of an older man in a suit and tie with greying hair and square glasses floating there. The same chain hung from his chest. A red stain was just above it.

"Were you shot?" was the first thing I asked bluntly.

"Ooh, sounds juicy already!" said Yuzu enthusiastically.

"Damn, I wish I could see as well as you," Karin muttered. All Karin and Yuzu saw and heard when a ghost appeared were a blur and a faint buzzing sound, like that of a fly. They couldn't even make out distinct words.

For me, the only differences between the living and the dead were the purposeful ones.

"A - a business partner shot me. I got involved with the yakuza," the businessman admitted. To his credit, he looked ashamed of himself. "The - the other ghosts said you could help me."

I blew out a breath, pushing strands of copper hair idly back behind my ears as I thought. "Yeah, I have a reputation for helping out the dead around here," I said slowly. "As far as I know, I'm the only one who can 'see' this well. So what does an immoral businessman want with me?"

"All - all ghosts disappear after a while. Some never form in the first place," said the man. "Where do those… souls... go?" The question was tentative. "I - I mean - is there a Hell?"

"You want to know if you're going to Hell," I realized, frowning.

The businessman swallowed, nodded.

"... I'm sorry," I said at last. What else was there to say? "I don't know what happens to the souls that disappear. You want my opinion? I think we all just go back into the earth. You know, that our energy is absorbed into the fold. I don't think I believe there's anything after this, myself. I guess some people just absorb quicker than others."

Like Mom. I hadn't been sure how to feel about that. One part grief, one part relief. I'd been dreading having to face my Mom, knowing my actions were what had gotten my mother killed. But Mom never appeared. I had felt relief.

That was what I meant about being a terrible person.

No one knew outside my family; it was our guilty little secret, and I kept it that way. I was pretty sure that deep down, at least my father resented me, that my mother _would_ resent me if she were still around, and I knew that I resented myself. I hoped my mother was at peace.

"So - oblivion?" the businessman was pondering.

"Oblivion," I agreed, nodding calmly. "No God. No afterlife. Oblivion."

I'd come to terms with the idea long ago, and it no longer really frightened me. It just gave me more incentive to live my life as fully as I could while I still had the chance. I was certain of myself.

I didn't think Death had anything left to show me.

* * *

Dinner was katsu pork with a light, spicy curry sauce and sticky sushi rice. The Kurosaki family dinner table was nothing if not lively: crazy schemes, shouts, challenges, arguments, and occasionally actions that could qualify as minor intrafamilial violence all abounded. At the same time, I could admit to myself, the cozy, close-knit atmosphere was nice. We all sat around the same small wooden table in Western-style chairs, no rank or formality. It was nice.

After dinner, it was my family's job to clean up the kitchen. (This was one of their only two chores - the other was that they had to make their own beds every morning. I cleaned the house and did the laundry on the weekends.) So I headed upstairs to my room with my book bag.

I cleared a bunch of shit off my desk and bent over it in the desk chair, turning on the light, to do my homework. And by the time I was finished with that, it was bedtime. Such was my life. I sighed, sitting back and running a hand through my orange hair tiredly. Same old, same old.

My pajamas consisted of a very big, long nightshirt and long, loose hair. Before I went to bed, I had a ritual: I had a soothing cup of warm milk or hot herbal tea, read some from my latest book, and played with Daisuke. He liked it when I dangled toys in front of him so he could claw at them. (This also meant none of his toys lasted very long.) Then he purred as I petted him to sleep.

I'd originally gotten Daisuke as an emotional support animal, one of my father's feeble, confused attempts to help me through my middle school depression.

Cereal was my go-to midnight snack, and then came bed. I slept with my body straight, my arms in front of my face, a pillow cuddled to my belly. My dreams were bizarre and surreal, almost like nightmares; my actual nightmares usually consisted of unpreparedness, failure, and sometimes Santa Claus or clowns.

But tonight, I had no nightmares - only a deep, dreamless sleep.

My body was preparing itself, I think, for tomorrow. The day when everything changed.


	2. Chapter 2

_Author's Notes:_ Based on the reviews, no one really seems to like this version of the story. But this version of the story is all I want to write. So here's how it's gonna be, peeps: if you're interested in reading this story further, let me know in a review. Otherwise, this is probably the last chapter I'll post. I'll continue writing this story without posting it, and will focus on posting for my other two stories instead.

The second part of this chapter is very much like Version One. But the first part is all-new stuff.

I tried make POV less confusing by putting Ichigo in first person and other people (like Rukia) in third person. Let me know what you think.

* * *

2.

Dad was up unusually early the next morning, almost as early as me, carrying a briefcase and a suitcase, in a suit and tie.

"I have a conference," he said in response to my stare. "Be sure to put the sign up on the front door saying the hospital is closed, okay? I won't be home tonight."

"Got it," I said smoothly, still making breakfast. "Hey, Dad." He turned at the door. "If you get all mushy over this I'll kill you… but you'll do great."

To my surprise, he smiled. "Thanks, kid," he said, and went out the door.

Karin turned on the morning news when she and Yuzu came in for breakfast. I told them about Dad; they were pretty casual. It wasn't the first time Dad had left home at the last minute. So we were all sitting around eating, and an alarming scene appeared on the newscast.

"And we are live here at Karakura Station! About a block from here, residents reported hearing a great rumbling, and then all the windows on all the lowest floors of the buildings exploded in a sudden shower of breaking glass. There have been serious injuries, but no one has died. The cause of the explosion is still unknown. If you travel by Karakura Station, find another way to make it through the city, because this entire block is closed for the day!" said the reporter, surrounded by crowds of people. "Police are doing everything they can to -" I stopped listening.

Behind him, sectioned off with yellow tape, was a long street full of buildings with what looked like deep, giant claw marks riven through all the lowest levels.

"It looks almost like some huge animal ripped through it," I said, frowning.

"Are you worried, Nee-chan?" Yuzu asked.

"It's just… I use that street to walk to school every day. That's really close to here," I realized. "So be careful today, you guys, okay?"

"Why don't _you_ be careful?" Karin grinned, joking. "It seems to be after _you_."

* * *

I'd stopped by the alleyway with some new flowers, but the ghost of the little girl wasn't there. Maybe she had passed on? I hoped so.

In any case, I swept up the street, wiped down the walls, and left a new offering of flowers. My work here was done. Then I headed off toward school.

So I was on my phone, going around a backway, through a different street from usual to get to campus. Tatsuki and Orihime were on the other line.

"Yeah, no, I'm not there. I'm -" I began, looking around for the street sign. And it happened quite suddenly.

All the windows on the ground floor of every single building exploded.

I ducked, covering my head and neck with my arms, as people screamed and started running and broken glass went everywhere.

 _"Ichigo! Ichigo!"_ I could also hear screaming coming from the phone.

"I'm alive," I breathed into the phone. "I'll have to call you back!" And I hung up on them.

That was when I heard a scream - the scream of the little girl's ghost. A yell came shortly after that, a man's yell. Suddenly, I saw the ghost of the old businessman and the ghost of the pigtailed girl come sprinting around the corner - and chasing them was a gigantic spirit monster, as tall as a mid-sized building.

I stopped, the blood draining from my face. It looked like a huge insect, its long pincers opened to claw at the buildings around it, but its face was the worst. It had a white mask face with leering skull teeth, its eyeholes all darkness but for a single light of sentience in each eye. A mask with no person behind it.

"Help!" the little girl screamed, running toward me. "Oneechan!"

"What is that thing?!" the businessman barked. "It's been chasing us since last night!"

"I - I don't know, I don't know. RUN!" It was all I could think of to do, the shriek tearing itself from my throat. I turned around and began sprinting as fast as I could, my mind racing. What was that thing? Why was it attacking Karakura?

Suddenly, the girl stumbled and fell. The businessman paused - "Keep going!" I barked at him, and ran back to get the little girl. If it could see her, it could hurt her, and that was all I was going off of at this point.

I heard the businessman pause, and keep running.

I bent over the little girl, trying to urge her to her feet. "Come on! Come on, get up!" I shouted. Then I felt the monster's shadow loom over us. We were never going to make it in time. "NEVER MIND, GET DOWN!" I screamed, throwing myself on top of her.

I looked up, saw the monster's teeth and the darkness of the back of its throat, felt its putrid blood-stained breath…

And then there was a flutter of black butterfly wings and my vision was covered in a flash of black cloth. The _shink_ of a sword made itself known to my ears.

A girl who looked around my age, small, delicate, pale, and dark-haired, was standing before me, blocking the monster from reaching me. She wore formal black robes, like those of a samurai, and carried a real katana sword.

Then the girl leaped upward and lunged, supernaturally high, at the creature. Her sword cut through its head and then down through its body and with a shrieking howl, it was gone. Like it had never been.

I stood shakily, my legs weak, and called out, "Hey -!" But the girl was already gone, as suddenly as she appeared. My hand reached out for nothing.

"How terrifying…"

"Another explosion…"

"What's going on?!"

I heard the shaken people speaking behind me. Bewildered, I turned around to one and pointed at where the monster had been. "You didn't see that?"

"See what?" the woman asked. "I saw you shout and throw yourself to the ground. I thought of doing the same myself!"

I turned around to the ghost of the little girl and we shared a serious look. What I had just seen, only the dead should be able to see. The monster had been a spirit…

But so, in fact, had been the black-robed girl.

* * *

I called Tatsuki and Orihime again, telling them only that I was fine - I'd survived the explosion.

"Don't get your hopes up, I'm not that easy to kill," I joked weakly over the phone.

"Go straight home and stay there," Tatsuki commanded icily, her voice full of helpless fury. "We'll tell your teachers what happened."

So I went home - doctor's orders. My mind was spinning. Had I imagined the whole thing - monster, girl? But then why had the ghosts been a part of my delusion?

Nothing that had happened today fit my set idea of how the Universe worked - and that frightened me. I was used to knowing more than everyone. I was the ultimate atheist skeptic with the supernatural powers. But this? I didn't understand it at all.

My sisters were nice when they came home and found out what had happened. They even made me dinner. I told them afterward that I was going to bed early, so they started up a loud video game in the living room downstairs. I went up to my bed, and then I just lay there, still in my school uniform, wondering: Who had been the girl? What had been the monster? And why had it been chasing those ghosts?

Just then, a black swallowtail butterfly fluttered through the closed window and over my head. My eyes widened, my head jerked up - and the black robed girl floated through my bedroom wall. She looked just like a living person. She wasn't transparent, there was no chain, there were no obvious signs of death - not even something subtle, like old age or chemotherapy.

And yet she was a spirit. She floated. She touched down on my bedroom floor, her expression solemn, not even looking at me. Instead, she was now looking around herself intently, as if searching for something. "It's close," I heard her murmur. "The source of spirit energy."

She was pale and dark-haired, with violet eyes, and she was tiny bordering on anorexic. Like, it looked like she could use some food. Seriously.

 _Getting ahead of yourself there, Ichigo. Do not just feed the girl with the sword who can move through walls._

"Hey," I called to the girl, clearing my throat, "um, I can see you." To be fair, I was used to weird things happening around me. This was just another one. But the girl ignored me, still staring around my bedroom. Maybe she was deaf?

So I walked up to the girl, bent down to her level, and said loudly right into her face, "ARE YOU DEAF? I CAN SEE YOU."

And the black-robed girl nearly had a goddamn heart attack.

"M… me? You can see… me?" she asked dumbly, her eyes wide.

I smirked and flicked her in the forehead. "Uh - _yeah_. Surprise? Aww. Did the poor little dead girl think she was invisible?"

The girl scowled, flushing, her eyes narrowing. "You arrogant little fool -!"

"Who did you think I was talking to, anyway?" I asked curiously, straightening, hands on my hips.

"I… I thought you were an undiagnosed schizophrenic," said the girl, feigning dignity.

"Funny. That's what I thought _you_ were."

The girl became indignant. "I am not an undiagnosed schizophrenic! I am a noble member of the house of Kuchiki!"

"See, the problem is, that's exactly what an undiagnosed schizophrenic would say. And this noble house of Kuchiki? Never heard of it." I smirked as the girl swelled, reddening. So she was easy to rile up.

How fun.

"You're that girl from the street today, aren't you?" she asked suspiciously. "The one who called to me."

"You just noticed now? So what exactly are you, anyway?" I added curiously. "And what was that monster? And why are you here? Look, no offense, but I don't exactly like my private space being invaded." The Kuchiki girl grew more serious, nodding in response to my point.

"There is a reason why I was so surprised you could see me. Even humans with abnormal spiritual powers usually cannot see me. I am on a higher level than what you would call a _ghost._

"I am a Shinigami."

Shinigami. _God of Death._

* * *

I decided to entertain this girl's idea. If it _was_ true, I did not know as much as I'd thought I had about death, and this needed to be rectified immediately. If it _wasn't_ true… well, I was curious to see just how elaborate this delusion was.

"You're a Shinigami," I said skeptically. "So… I've always been curious… when they're not out reaping souls… what do Shinigami _do_ , exactly?" Shinigami were like the Japanese version of the West's Grim Reaper. Supposedly, they came for dead souls. In living world culture, no matter what they were called, they were frightening emblems of death itself, always black-cloaked, eerie beings, silent as the graves they haunted. Seeing one only meant one thing - that your life was over. So the idea of one lazing on a beach with some suntan lotion was hilarious.

Kuchiki blinked, surprised by the question. "Well, it depends on the Shinigami," she said uncertainly. "I, for example, like drawing. And classical music. I enjoy climbing to high places, such as in rock and tree climbing. And I like bunnies."

"You like bunnies?"

"They're cute!" said Kuchiki defensively.

"Hey, I'm not judging. Do you have a _pet_ bunny?"

"Sadly… no. I do not think my older brother would take kindly to the suggestion. It would be below my station." Kuchiki looked a bit despondent at this. "He is the head of the family. He must care about these things."

"You should get one anyway."

"Clearly, you have never met my brother."

"I'd get one anyway."

"I'm sure you would," said Kuchiki dryly. And to a certain extent, she meant it. "Now -"

"Wait. I have more questions."

Kuchiki seemed impatient, but she said, "Okay. Fire away."

"What do Shinigami do on the job? And where do they live?" I asked intently.

"Shinigami have two principal duties," explained Kuchiki. "To destroy evil soul monsters called Hollows, such as the one you saw today - which humans also cannot see - and to help Plus souls, what you call ghosts, pass on to the next life, with a ritual called Konso. The next life is where we live. It is called the Soul Society."

"Do all dead souls become… Plus souls? How do you destroy Hollows? What happens to souls who die in the Soul Society?"

"Only the Plus souls with a tie to the living world become ghosts. Our job is to break their tie to the living world. We destroy Hollows with our zanpakutoh," she indicated to her sword, "and with special spells called kido - high level incantations only a Shinigami can cast."

"So your swords are special and you say funny words."

Kuchiki looked irritated. "You know, I don't _have_ to be explaining this to you."

"Alright, alright. What can the spells do?"

"Bind, attack, shield and defend, and heal. And as for souls who die in the Soul Society… well, first, aging is slowed down in the Soul Society. Ten years for every one of yours." So how old was Kuchiki? "And only souls with spirit energy even need food. But once a soul does die in the Soul Society, it is reincarnated in the land of the living."

"Do you have to have spirit energy to be a Shinigami?"

"Yes. We are usually recruited from the masses, though the Soul Society born nobility are born to spirit energy naturally."

"Are all souls born in Soul Society considered nobility?"

"No. You have to be of an established noble family with spiritual presence," said Kuchiki firmly.

"And how do you Shinigami decide who destroys what Hollows, or sends on what Plus souls?"

"We each have missions, are assigned sectors to guard for a certain period of time - in Soul Society and in the living world both, because Hollows attack Soul Society too. They live in the space between realms, a desert place called Hueco Mundo."

"Why are Hollows so evil?"

"They have a constant emptiness inside them. They eat souls to feed this emptiness."

So like vampires. "And that's why it was after those ghosts. So… if a Hollow is destroyed, are the souls it ate released?"

"Into the Soul Society, yes. Very good," said Kuchiki, pleased.

"What is the Soul Society like?" I asked hungrily.

"It is a very good place. The commoner's grounds are a series of small villages. You would call them old fashioned… as I've said, we age much slower there." That explained the bizarre clothing. "Then there is a vast city in the center where the nobles and Shinigami live. The Soul Society is ruled by a council called Central 46, which regulates Shinigami and provisional spirit law. The Soul Society is much slower paced, full of nature and usually very peaceful. Ten to one it's better than the living world," said Kuchiki proudly.

"So… the Soul Society seems to have taken on Eastern culture… does that harken back to Ancient China being one of the oldest and first complex living world civilizations? Like, was there a war that decided this, Mayans vs Chinese, or…?" I was curious.

Kuchiki looked completely bewildered, like she had no idea what I meant. "What is… _China_?"

"It's… the country… near… this one?" I was now the one who was confused.

"Oh, you mean Region 45! The big one!" said Kuchiki brightly.

"Yeah, you know what? Never mind," I decided. "Next question. How do you get all those people from all those different countries to come together at once?"

"Well, it helps that all languages become one language in the Soul Society," Kuchiki explained. "Everyone thinks everyone else is speaking their language."

"Is there a Hell?" I asked next.

"Yes. Evil souls are sent there."

"How do you define evil?"

"Evil is one who has done dark things. Such as murder, or rape."

"And what was that black butterfly?"

"That was a Hell butterfly. Not actually related to Hell, funny enough. They relay messages, guide Plus souls on to the Soul Society - they do all sorts of useful things on command."

"So why haven't I ever seen a Shinigami or a Hollow before, then?" I challenged. Everything else fit. The souls never appearing. The souls disappearing.

"As I said, you have to be of a certain spiritual energy level to see us. Your powers have grown as you've gotten older, yes?"

"... Yeah," I admitted at last, thoughtfully. "They have. The more ghosts I come into contact with, and the more I age, the more my powers grow - like those ghosts in the street today. I knew both of them personally. So you think they've unlocked my power?"

"Exactly," said Kuchiki neatly, pleased. "That would explain it."

"So you're on a mission now? This is your sector?"

"Correct. I was searching for a source of huge spiritual presence, and then I was distracted by a Hollow alert, so I was chasing down the Hollow and then when I entered this room - which is very close to the spiritual presence - the Hollow suddenly went off my sensing radar. It's very peculiar. Like some force is obstructing my senses. That's why I'm in your room."

"And I can see you because I have the power that makes dead people Shinigami?"

"Yes, quite a lot of it. I have never even heard of a human who can see Shinigami before."

"So that could be why more and more ghosts keep finding me as I get older and older."

"Yes, it's probably a growth spurt of your spirit energy."

"Okay… prove it to me," I said firmly, crossing my arms.

Kuchiki seemed caught off guard. "... What?"

"If you have all these amazing powers… Show me some." This would be the deciding factor for me. I didn't believe in what I couldn't experience. I wasn't one of those 'blind faith' sorts of people. Con artists, fake psychics, magic, and stupid reality TV shows were not my forte, and neither, really, was religion.

"You see that I am different, yet you do not believe in me?" Kuchiki asked, both disbelieving and scathing.

"I want proof," I repeated stubbornly, lifting my chin defiantly.

Kuchiki's eyes narrowed. Then she suddenly unsheathed her sword, reached out, and made a little slice in my arm. I winced, there was a moment of pain - "How can you do that?" I asked wonderingly. "Plus souls can't touch living things."

"Do you ever stop asking questions?" Kuchiki asked in amusement. ("No," I said.) "It's all about how much spirit energy you have. The more you have, the more you can affect the living world around you. Now shush and watch me work."

Then Kuchiki put her hand over the cut in a flash of electric blue and the cut was miraculously gone. Just like that - zip. As if it had never been. I stared.

For the first time, Kuchiki smiled. "You see? Healing kido. A normal Plus spirit couldn't do that. Kido is one of my favorite parts of being a Shinigami."

The moment of peace was interrupted by a sudden roar. A horrible, piercing, screaming howl of pain met my ears, and I looked up, my face white.

"What is it?" Kuchiki tensed, half-standing, suddenly serious, immediately going for her zanpakutoh.

"Can you hear that?" My voice was shaking, and I hated it. "That horrible, piercing howl? It's coming from outside. Isn't that what you're looking for?" I recognized it from before.

Kuchiki paused, listening. "I hear nothi -" she began. And then she heard it. The howling cry of a Hollow.

"That's it!" she hissed, whirling in that direction. "That's the Hollow!"

Then there was a crash that shook the floor below, and a high-pitched female scream. The Hollow was attacking this house.

 _"That was Yuzu!"_ I screamed, and before Kuchiki could stop me I was out of the room and down the stairs. I jumped the stairs two at a time, leaped onto the landing, hurtled into the living room and kitchen. A wide hole had been made in the wall to the outside, and a great Hollow monster was hunched there. It was a huge, hunching, hulking beast with big hands and long, grabbing fingers, made of colors black, white, and grey. Karin and Yuzu screamed - the Hollow went for them - and fury blocked out my terror. I sprinted forward and pushed my sisters out of the way just in time, felt the Hollow's fingers close around me instead. I was lifted out of the house and up high above the street, my feet dangling.

"Nee-chan!" Yuzu and Karin shouted in fear. I wasn't sure they could even see what was attacking us.

"Let me go, you stupid, fish-faced freak!" I shouted, kicking ineffectively at the Hollow's hand. Then it opened its mouth to swallow me whole - I froze in fear - _"Karin, Yuzu, run!"_ I screamed, unable to look away - my last act, I thought -

And then Kuchiki. Kuchiki was there, blocking me again.

Kuchiki had knocked out my screaming little sisters and now leaped forward, cutting off the Hollow's arm holding me and grabbing me by the collar as I fell. She set me gently down on the ground, stood in front of me with her sword raised, as the Hollow retreated, writhing and howling in pain.

"Now I understand," said Kuchiki softly.

"What do you mean?" I asked, shaken, lying there behind her.

"The Hollow attacked your house, but did not immediately kill your sisters or go to eat them. The Hollow chased your ghost friends, yet never bothered to catch them. The Hollow attacked a place you usually frequent, yet nobody was killed. Why?"

I paused. That was actually a damn good question. If Hollows attacked people to eat their souls… why…? "I don't know," I admitted.

"Because it was looking for something else. Or rather, some _one_ else. Hollows will eat all souls, that is true, but they prefer souls with high spirit energy. When possible, they always attack prey opportunistically, prey that will be as filling and juicy as possible.

"Prey like you.

"You, human girl, have more spiritual power than anyone else I have ever heard of. You, as a living human, can see and touch Shinigami and Hollows. And I have realized - the spiritual presence I was sensing was _you_. You were the source, your bedroom was. Your spiritual presence spreads out so far around you, I felt it from all the way on the other side of your district. The closer I got into the thick of it, the center of the cloud of spirit energy, the harder it was to sense anything. But the minute you moved away from me even a little bit, I could sense better again. And you, you heard the Hollow before me. Because your power, which was blocking me out, gave even your untrained soul better ears than I have.

"The thing obstructing my senses was _you._

"And, most likely, these Hollows are attacking your home, and the people you know, because they are looking for you. They are attacking people you touch, people you leave your soul's signature on. You have become so strong that Hollows not even in your area are instinctively seeking you out. You leave such a strong trace that they can sense you even in the people who are not you."

I paused. "... And this will continue happening?" I asked quietly. "More Hollows will come, and they will continue attacking the ones I love, as long as I am around?"

Kuchiki winced. "... Yes," she admitted.

And then Kuchiki Rukia felt a blow to the back of her head and she was knocked out. She realized too late that she had begun trusting this human girl who would risk her life pushing her sisters out of the way of harm, who would ask such intelligent, thoughtful questions about a world she had never even heard of before. Trust.

A dangerous thing for a Shinigami.

* * *

I knew what I had to do. It was the most cliched line in all of action history, but in this case it was true. I was about to fix this problem. And what I was about to do, no one else could do, or would do, except me.

I looked fondly once more on my home, my unconscious sisters, the little remnants of my absent father, even at Kuchiki herself. I was glad, all the same, that my father was not here. That he did not have to feel helpless in the face of his daughter's death. I gave one thought to my friends at school, another thought to my friends in karate and kendo clubs, and another to my friends in the Harajuku district. They were all in danger. But I could save them - save them from myself.

If I had my way, no one had to die tonight except me.

There was no hope for me. I was as good as dead. I had no Shinigami powers, and supposedly nothing else worked against a Hollow. So the Hollows would continue stalking me, hunting me down through my friends and family, until one finally killed me. I could not count on the Shinigami to always be around.

So, I thought, take out the middle man. Just let it kill me before it killed anyone I cared about.

But I wasn't stupid. If I stayed here and let it eat me, it would just eat Kuchiki and my sisters afterward. Hollows were plagued by constant emptiness, right? But if I led it to an abandoned place far away and _then_ let it eat me… then supposedly it would go after anyone equally.

But just in case, I should probably try to kill it.

And I kind of liked that idea. That I could die killing it. Maybe I could even be released into the Soul Society that way, and release other souls besides myself. And if I thought that through my actions I was atoning for that one horrible thing I had done to my mother - well, no one had to know that except myself.

There was a reason I had lived, I realized, a reason I had survived all those suicidal thoughts. It was so I could die today.

Of course, I faced the possibility that I would wound it and not kill it. In that case, until the Hollow was destroyed by a Shinigami like Kuchiki, I faced dark oblivion. But oblivion was what I'd always planned for anyway. So death at the hands of the Hollow didn't bother me as much as it might have other people, though I wasn't looking forward to the pain.

So I ran into the kitchen, grabbed a knife, and then ran outside to stand in front of the Hollow in a strong wide-legged stance. My face was hard, my eyes stony pieces of flint, fiery and determined.

"Hey, asshole!" I shouted to the Hollow. "You want my soul?!" The Hollow, which had recovered at least somewhat by this point - its arm was regrowing - snarled, roaring. I raised my arms. "Then come and get it!"

And I turned and ran.

The Hollow followed me.

I was a good runner. I'd always prided myself on that. I could sprint, and tonight, being chased once more, I sprinted faster than I ever had before. There was a fleeting kind of triumph, I thought, to the way I always ran just that much faster than the snarling Hollow - though maybe that was just the adrenaline talking. I ran through darkened streets, passed by houses standing in rows on either side of me like silent sentinels, until I finally made it into an empty black park near an abandoned housing unit. Skeletal tree branches lifted long tendrils up to the sky as if in a kind of prayer, the leaves obscured by darkness. I stopped in a space between two trees. Turned around.

I got into a stance and held the knife before me, scowling firmly. And I waited. Unable to speak, breathing hard.

The Hollow paused. Then charged toward me, howling.

I looked into the teeth, felt the putrid breath once more, and tried to position the knife so that it would go right for the Hollow's center. This thought grounded me. Distracted me from my overriding fear.

For the third time that day, I was prepared to die.

* * *

Kuchiki Rukia woke up, her head pounding, only to find the human girl and the Hollow gone. Gasping and cursing, she looked up and around wildly - she was still alive by a dead person's standards, still a Shinigami, and the human girl was running away, the Hollow following her, a knife glinting in her hand.

That idiot.

An honor sacrifice.

Kuchiki jumped to her feet and ran after the Hollow and the girl. She arrived just in time to see the Hollow snarl and fly at the girl, who had stilled, the glinting moonlit knife in her hand poised at the readiness -

And Kuchiki Rukia also ran faster than she ever had in her life. And for a Shinigami, that was saying something.

Because for a moment, she was there in the forest again, watching Shiba Kaien-dono die at the hands of the Hollow; Kaien-dono… who looked just like this random human girl. She could have been his female twin.

Kuchiki Rukia couldn't stand by and let Kaien-dono die again.

* * *

And for the third time, my vision was covered in the _shink_ of a sword and a flash of black cloth.

Kuchiki had run in front of me and taken the attack for me. The Hollow's teeth crunched around her small frame, her sword poking out through the top of its mouth in a glint of silver. It wasn't dead, but it was severely wounded. It spat her out like a bad piece of meat and retreated again, writhing and howling in pain.

"You… idiot…" Kuchiki panted from the ground, bleeding everywhere, her face deathly white and her lips blue.

"I was doing the only intelligent thing!" I said fiercely. "Damnit, Shinigami girl! You should've let me die!"

"You wanted to save your family and friends."

 _"Yes."_

"There is one other way you could do that." Kuchiki was speaking quickly now.

"And that is?"

"You could become a Shinigami."

It took a while, for the words to hit me. "But I'm not dead," I pointed out at last uncertainly.

"If I pierce the tip of my zanpakutoh through your heart, I can temporarily gift some of my powers to you," said Kuchiki seriously from the ground. "I am too badly injured to fight it myself, but you…" She sounded hopeful. Then she winced. "There is a high probability it will work, since you have so much spirit energy, but if it doesn't you will die. But there is no other way. No time to ponder it. Make your decision now."

I paused. "So let me get this straight," I said. "I could either face oblivion at the mouth of a Hollow, let a bunch of my friends and family get killed and _then_ face oblivion at the mouth of a Hollow… or I could take the option where I either save everybody or get sent to the Soul Society?" I grinned viciously. "And you call that a _choice_? Hell yeah I'm taking option three!"

Kuchiki smiled, warm respect in her eyes for the first time.

"Give me the zanpakutoh, Shinigami girl." I reached out my hand. "We'll try your plan."

"Not 'Shinigami girl'," said Kuchiki quietly. "My name is Kuchiki Rukia. Rukia. You can call me by my given name." I got the feeling that she was some sort of noble and this was important.

I smiled. "Kurosaki Ichigo," I said in return. "And you can call me Ichigo. Let's hope this isn't the last meeting for either of us, yeah?"

The Hollow had recovered again, was coming after us.

"Are you ready?" said Rukia solemnly from the ground, pointing the sword at my heart.

I swallowed, nodded. My palms were sweaty, my heart pumped. Somehow, the leadup was more awful than the idea itself. "Yes," I said.

And then the sword plunged through my heart and I felt a flash of electric energy inside me. It touched off some sort of spark, like my heart was made of wood, and then in a great explosion I felt something inside of me jump on top of Rukia's sword - pin it down - suck up more and more of that addictive energy even as the sword struggled - it felt so good I couldn't have stopped if I'd wanted to -

And then, in a vicious and unrefined burst, my power plunged over the barriers of my body and leaped into the ether, where my soul shifted, changed, reformed.

After that, everything was different. Irrevocable, though I didn't know it at the time.

Rukia might have. Rukia might have known, even then, that this was irrevocable.

* * *

Rukia knelt in the cold night air, shivering, only her white under-robe and her wounds left on her. She was now no more than a simple dead soul, no longer a Shinigami. She'd planned only to offer Ichigo half her powers. She had not counted on Ichigo's soul being that powerful and unaccountably vicious. _All_ of her power was now gone.

Just what _was_ that girl? Where did the power inside her come from?

Rukia was left strangely shaken.

Ichigo's body was unconscious beside her, but her soul had reformed in front of the Hollow. The transfer had worked. And supposedly, Ichigo could now travel to and from her living body as a Shinigami, unfettered.

Watching the new Shinigami form, she saw Ichigo's eyes come back into focus, saw the power fade from her expression, saw that reassuring consciousness return. The same warm consciousness that had grinned and agreed to do something that might kill her just for the chance to save everybody.

Rukia definitely preferred _that_ Ichigo over whatever horrible spirit was trapped inside her.

Ichigo looked good as a black-robed Shinigami, she had to admit. And sheathed at her back was a massive sword, larger than any Rukia had ever seen. The unformed sword, the asauchi, changed according to the power of its wielder. Never had Rukia seen one become so large on an untrained rookie.

Ichigo's increased confidence could also be seen. A deadly calm had come over her face.

Then in a burst of newly controlled speed she'd unsheathed her sword and flown at the Hollow, and began a wild, graceful, elegant dance around its blows. Never once was she hit. She'd been trained. She was _good_. It was mesmerizing to watch.

And then, in a few neat sword strokes, she had cut her zanpakutoh through the Hollow's limbs and then through its head and the Hollow disintegrated into thin air with one last screech as the souls inside it were freed.

Rukia stared in silent amazement as Ichigo turned to look at her… Then Ichigo's eyes rolled into the back of her head and she collapsed into unconsciousness.

 _"Ichigo!_ " Rukia did not even recognize the horrified, fearful scream that issued from her lips. It was unbefitting of both a noble and a Shinigami. But Rukia was no longer technically either, and anyway, in her defense, it had been a weird night.

She crawled in pain over to Ichigo's Shinigami form, crying out the girl's name pitifully, unable to do anything else -

"Relax. Her soul's just adjusting to its new form. It's a natural process."

Rukia froze at the new voice - the new voice that could apparently hear hers. She whirled around to look.

A man was standing there, and he had a body but somehow she sensed great spirit energy inside him. He was looking right at her, his smile whimsical but his eyes cold and clinical. He had stubble around his chin, longish unkempt blond hair, wore a boat hat and clogs, had a long coat and carried a cane.

"Wh-who are you?" She tried to sound confident. Instead of helpless. Which she was.

"Urahara Kisuke, at your service." He tipped his hat politely.

Rukia felt fear clog her throat. Urahara Kisuke was a traitor, a former Captain-class Shinigami, exiled from the Soul Society for illegal experiments on other souls in the name of spirit energy research. That body must be his own creation. That cane must be his zanpakutoh. They never did manage to take it from him.

"S-stay back!" She began pulling herself backward along the ground. _"Traitor!"_

"Relax, relax." Urahara put up a hand. "Now I'm just a lowly underground Shinigami equipment black market salesman who happens to reside nearby."

Rukia's eyes narrowed. _"Happens?"_

"Okay. So, I'm interested in the girl behind you. Have been for a while. And I'm willing to help you out."

"So you can get to her?" Rukia asked in a hard voice.

"In a way," said Urahara enigmatically. "If you find that hard to believe…" His smile became icy. "Just… call me bored."

What could Rukia do? She couldn't go back to the Soul Society like this.

She closed her eyes in defeat. "I accept," she finally whispered helplessly.


	3. Chapter 3

_Author's Note:_ I got enough good reviews to keep going. I'm going to post chapters 3, 4, and 5. 3 and 4 are very close to version one, 5 is completely different.

* * *

3.

Skeletal hands were pulling me down into a pit of fire and brimstone. They were the hands of my dead sisters' corpses, reanimated, pulling me down into Hell along with them.

 _"We thought you would save us, Ichigo, we thought you were going to save us…"_ they moaned over and over again, dragging me further and further even as I struggled.

"I did save you! I tried to!" I cried out, yanking at their hands. "I'm sorry, I thought I had, I -!" The dead had no patience with my excuses.

Then Rukia in Shinigami form, glowing white, appeared floating above me in the pit. "I am sorry," she said stonily, contemptuous. "You were too late."

"Too late?! Rukia, help me!" I cried out. But Rukia disappeared, and the light left the pit.

Still struggling, I looked around - and I saw Mom's face. Pale, staring, lifeless, glassy-eyed. Accusing.

 _"You didn't save us."_

I shrieked and sat up straight and realized I was in bed.

"... Nightmare," I breathed, slumping and putting a hand over my chest, breathing hard. My heart was pounding furiously. "Just a nightmare." I realized what had woken me up. My phone alarm was going off on my desk across the bedroom, just like on any other normal morning. Faint sunlight streamed through the window.

I slid out of bed and stood. Mostly on autopilot. I was sleepy and shaken. I didn't remember going to bed last night, but somehow I was in bed, wearing a nightshirt, my hair loose. Daisuke, who I didn't even remember letting in last night, meowed and rubbed his way past my ankles.

I went to turn off my alarm and wondered if the whole Shinigami mess had been some bizarre, fevered dream. Maybe I needed to lay off the spicy food before bed? But it was weird that I didn't remember pulling on my pajamas and putting everything away before going to sleep.

I put on my jogging clothes as usual, went downstairs through the empty, sleeping house as usual - and stopped suddenly, my heart jolting. The hole was still there in the living room wall.

Frightened, I sprinted back up the stairs to my sisters' bedroom. "Karin! Yuzu!" I called, banging the door open - and I found two soundly sleeping people who were quite annoyed at being woken up. They were sleepy, confused, and perfectly fine.

"Goddamn, what the hell's the matter?" Karin muttered, sitting up and rubbing her eyes.

"You're - you're both okay." I paused, blinking stupidly.

"Girls!" Suddenly, I heard the door open and the sound of a suitcase being set down in the hall. I ran to the staircase. Dad was standing there, looking bewildered. He pointed at the hole.

"... What happened to the side of our house?"

* * *

It turned out? My sisters had _no_ memories of the night before. We asked the neighbors, who all confirmed that they'd seen a weaving, probably drunken truck driver plunge straight through the Kurosaki house last night.

It was so improbable, it would have been funny if it hadn't been so sad. They all seemed so _convinced._ Did the Shinigami have a triage service?

Dad commented that it was a miracle - a truck crashed into our house and nobody got a scratch! Equally brightly, Yuzu commented that it was a double miracle - none of us had even woken up! Then Karin and Dad got into a typical argument.

"Some miracle," Karin muttered. "The jerk left us with the repair bills."

"It's okay!" said Dad enthusiastically. "He'll come back to apologize someday!"

"No. He won't."

"But maybe -!"

"He's not coming back to apologize, Dad. Hit and runs are illegal. He'd be arrested."

"But maybe he could brave infamy and -!"

"Are you even listening to yourself?"

"When did my adorable little girls get so pessimistic…?"

"You'll have to forgive her," said Yuzu understandingly. "It's early in the morning and _she's on her period._ " She mock-whispered the last part, hand to her mouth.

Karin flushed and opened her mouth furiously to shout something, and I broke the whole thing up firmly. "Okay, okay, you three, let's not kill each other. Nobody's dying today. Karin and Yuzu start cleaning up the living room, Dad board up the hole in the wall, and I'll make breakfast. I guess we'll all have to arrive at school a little late today."

I figured my brief power trip must be over. Rukia must have taken her powers and gone back to that Soul Society place. Which still didn't fix one problem: more Hollows would be coming after me.

This troubled me for the rest of the morning.

* * *

As I walked up to my friends in class later that day, I heard them talking.

"What happened to Ichigo-chan? She _never_ misses school," said Orihime worriedly.

"Yeah, she was voted Most Likely to Become Your Terrifying Boss in last year's middle school yearbook," said Chizuru.

"I heard Ooshima finally got to her," Ryou said darkly from behind her book.

"You mean, like he attacked her?!" Chizuru squealed. Michiru gasped and put a hand over her mouth.

"No," Mahana said eagerly, _"we mean she killed him."_

"So she's in jail?!"

"Totally in jail." Mahana and Ryou sat back, satisfied.

Orihime turned immediately to Tatsuki. "Tatsuki-chan, we have to spring our friend from jail!" she said determinedly.

"Fine by me," said Tatsuki dryly, who plainly who didn't believe a word of it. "I'm game."

"You guys are all ridiculous," said Mizuiro, a prep. "I walk right by her house to go to school every morning. Some drunk truck driver rammed into it last night." He said this like it was somehow _better_ than me being in jail. Orihime, Chizuru, and Michiru disproved this theory by screaming.

"No, Ichigo, you're too young and hot to leave us!" cried Keigo, a complete perv.

"Here, here!" Chizuru, lesbian to the end, added.

"Does she need help?" Sado - the big, strong, silent type - asked quietly, tensing.

"Fuck all you guys!" said Tatsuki in alarm. "I've gotta ask the real question: _Is she dea -?!"_

Amused, I walked up behind Tatsuki. "Nope." My book bag hit Tatsuki gently in the back of the head. "Sorry to disappoint everyone. We all survived."

They whirled around. I was standing there in my uniform.

"Ooshima did try to grope my ass outside class just now, though," I added. "I think I might have broken his wrist this time."

Several of my friends flew at me at once, crying out in relief.

"OH, THANK GOD, MY FUTURE WIFE!" That was Chizuru.

"Ichigo-chan, you're moving in with me!" That was Orihime.

 _"I was just about to start crying!"_ That was Michiru.

 _"So was I! Let's cry together and then do it!"_ That was Keigo.

"Fuck off, asshole." Accompanied by the sounds of punching. That was Ryou and Tatsuki, defending their friend from Keigo.

"Fill us in on all the juicy details. I want gossip material, please." That was Mahana.

I was just about to be suffocated under a pile of bodies, when a new voice popped up. A voice familiar only to me.

 _"Sonuva,"_ it said in a stilted way, "are you Kurosaki?"

I looked around, and my eyes widened. Kuchiki Rukia was standing there, apparently in a body as everyone could see her, in a Karakura High School uniform. She gave a bright smile, looking alien.

"Nice to meet you!" she said.

"Oh, this is Kuchiki Rukia," said Mizuiro, who knew everything about everyone, in response to my silent, caught-off-guard stare. "She started here yesterday. It's an unusual time to transfer, but her family had to move."

"Kurosaki-san, I don't have any textbooks yet," said Rukia sweetly. "Do you mind if I sit by you? The headmaster said you could share yours with me." She held out a hand. Written on it in pen was a single sentence: DON'T MAKE A SCENE.

My face fell into expressionlessness. "Sure, Kuchiki-san," I said. "Let me show you around the school. Come with me." And I practically dragged Rukia out of the room.

Ichigo's friends were left mystified in her wake.

"She's showing the new girl around school?" Tatsuki asked. "That's… unusually friendly of her."

* * *

I turned to Rukia immediately in an empty courtyard.

"So - are we skipping school?" Rukia asked excitedly. "That's what kids do around here, right?"

"No - I mean - it depends on the kid - that's not the point, _look_ ," I said. "What's wrong?"

"What's wrong?" Rukia repeated, looking bewildered.

"Yes, what's wrong!" I said, exasperated, throwing up my hands. "Has the Soul Society sent you, do you need help with another Hollow, are you -?"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Slow down. I haven't left yet," said Rukia.

I stared. "Why not?"

"Because you still have my powers," said Rukia slowly, like I was an idiot. Which was kind of how I suddenly felt.

"I - I thought my power trip was over," was all I could manage.

"What I offered you last night was not a one time thing," said Rukia, frowning. "I may not be able to go back to the Soul Society for _months._ You stole all my powers and it will take time for them to fade from your soul's body and for mine to recover. I can only do the most basic of kido, and I currently have no other powers. Until they return, I have to rely on this gigai."

"Gigai?"

"A fake body Shinigami use in times of emergencies," said Rukia, business-like. "So they can disguise themselves as humans and avoid Hollows."

"How did you get one, though? What, did you have it stuffed up your butt?" I said. Rukia gave me a Look and I smirked.

"I… may have asked a shady third party with access to black market equipment… for help… using my emergency mission stipend," said Rukia, sounding highly embarrassed. "I - I can transfer the money from the same place I get Hollow alerts." She sheepishly held up a cell phone looking thing.

I freaked out. "What?! Isn't that dangerous?! Why didn't you ask the Soul Society for help?"

"I can't go to them with this."

"Why not -?"

"I just can't!" Rukia glared.

I raised her hands slowly. "Okay," I said. "Okay. So, they helped you put me back in my body and wipe the memories of my sisters and neighbors."

"We also cleaned up a bit," said Rukia matter-of-factly.

"Right. Thanks. Now, Rukia… I gotta ask…" I had a pained expression. _"Please_ tell me you're the one who redressed me in my pajamas."

Rukia, who had looked tense, suddenly seemed amused. "Yes, it was me," she said. "Me and Ururu. A little girl… robot, I suppose you would call her… who is part of Urahara's gang."

"Who's Urahara?"

"A greedy salesman with exorbitantly high prices," Rukia muttered.

"So… what's your plan from here? Where will you stay?" I asked. "Because, we have a spare room at my house. I can probably just tell my family and friends you're having family problems. My Dad'll be ecstatic to take you in, and my sisters won't complain."

Rukia seemed surprised, almost nervous. "Really? I was… I was kind of just going to camp out in your closet." She muttered this, as if just now realizing how stupid it sounded.

I smiled. "In that old thing? A pile of towels could fall on you and suffocate you at any minute. Just take the bedroom."

"Excellent," said Rukia briskly, recovering. "It'll be convenient for me to have you close at hand all the time in case a Hollow alert comes."

"Eh?" I looked bewildered.

"Ichigo, think about it logically," said Rukia slowly, her 'you're-stupid' expression once more firmly in place. "I don't have powers. I can't go back to the Soul Society. Who else is going to do Shinigami duties around Tokyo except you?"

I was thunderstruck. "But - but - but I don't know anything about being a Shinigami!"

"That's why you have _me,_ " said Rukia. The 'you're-stupid' expression still hadn't left.

"No!"

"... What?" Now it was Rukia's turn to be flabbergasted. "Y-you can't refuse! This is your fault!"

"Screw you, I can totally refuse, and I am!" I said defiantly.

"That's - that's totally selfish! Ichigo, someone has to save these people! You could be a hero, you could be -!"

 _"That's why I can't do it!"_ The words came out in a raw, savage cry before I could even stop them. My eyes were squeezed shut, twisted with emotion. I opened them up, squinting in pain.

"What do you mean?" Rukia asked, completely bewildered. "Ichigo, you were a hero last night! You saved your family -"

"That's - that's not - look. Rukia, you've known me for less than twenty-four hours. You don't know who I _am_. I'm - I'm a selfish bitch, people are terrified of me, everyone hates me! You have no idea how utterly unequipped I am for a job saving people."

Rukia was just _staring_ at me. I sighed and looked away. "I - I killed my mother." There was a stark silence in the courtyard. "I saw someone about to commit suicide. I was nine years old. I ran across a road full of cars trying to stop them from jumping. My Mom, who was walking me home, ran after me to try to pull me back from the line of speeding cars. She got hit. I didn't. Death on impact. I was there. I woke up to find her body shielding mine - in death, it had pushed me out of the way in time. Then she didn't become a ghost, and no one in my family ever saw her again.

"That's the last time I ever tried to be a hero for a stranger.

"I'm better selfish. I haven't fucked up since. When I stick to beating the shit out of the people who hurt me and my friends and family, I do just fine. And I'm happy you've given me the power to save my friends and family from future Hollows. But when it comes to saving other people, I -"

"You're scared," Rukia realized in a whisper. "You're actually scared to be self sacrificing."

I shrugged. I still wouldn't look Rukia in the eye. "Call it whatever you want," I said. "But I - I wish I was different - but I'm not - I've never been -" Now I wasn't even making any sense, and I knew it. "I'm not that girl," I finished, whispering softly. "That dark-haired girl who kicks ass in the name of defenseless strangers and gets the guy - I'm not that girl. I'm not even the golden-haired girl who swoons and faints a lot and needs saving by a handsome prince. I don't know what I am. I'm just - me," I finished lamely, shrugging again. "And - I-I don't think that's good enough for what you're asking me to do."

I finally looked up, staring Rukia in the eye. Vulnerable.

"I'm certain of my future," I said. "And I don't get the guy, and I don't save the world. It's not that kind of future. In my future, I marry a drunken asshole because I have Daddy issues and become a bitchy CEO who knows five different languages. I never have kids. And I'm as happy as I could be under the circumstances. Shinigami? Hollows? Fighting? Death? Doesn't exactly factor into that future."

I remembered the first time I'd heard the song "I'm Not That Girl." The lyrics that had struck me the most were:

 _Blithe smile, lithe limb,_

 _She who's winsome, she wins him,_

 _Gold hair with a gentle curl._

 _That's the girl he chose,_

 _And heaven knows_

 _I'm not that girl._

It had hit me to the core.

"I'm sorry," I added, for whatever it was worth. "I'm sorry that out of all the people in the world, you had to end up giving your powers to _me_. I'm not exactly the best vessel for them."

"But I'm not the first dead person you've helped, am I?" Rukia said suddenly.

I paused.

"I'm not," said Rukia, her eyes gleaming triumphantly. "You probably help ghosts all the time. So this future you're supposed to have? _You're_ not even following it."

She walked up to me and stopped, taking out a fingerless glove with a skull symbol on the front and putting it on.

"You mother's death was not your fault," she said bluntly. "It was the fault of the driver who didn't stop fast enough. But that's not even really the issue here. The issue here isn't even that you don't want to be a hero - I think that deep down, you do. The issue, really, is that you don't think you're a hero, and I think you're wrong. Give me one chance to prove it to you."

I paused, and we gave each other a hard stare. Then - I wasn't even sure why I said it - but in the end, I supposed, my curiosity got the better of me. "Alright," I said. "One chance."

And Rukia slammed her gloved hand into my body. My soul pulsed once, and then I blacked out.

* * *

I opened my eyes to find myself lying on the ground. I sat up straight - and realized I was in my soul's Shinigami form. I stared at the unconscious body across from me. The unconscious body that looked just like me.

"That is me," I said matter-of-factly. "And that is creepy."

"You." I looked around to find Rukia standing above me, quite serious. "Follow me." And she started walking. After dragging my body over to a shady corner and sitting it upright, shutting its creepy blank eyes, I followed her.

Rukia led me to a children's park. There were lots of them in this general area - this was where most of the schools were in Karakura. This particular one was called Yumizawa, the biggest park in Karakura besides Karuizawa. It was named after some important person I had never bothered to remember. It was surrounded by tall trees, cradled by a bed of green grass, and it featured lots of colorful children's playground equipment.

And then we just stood there, watching the empty park (school was in session), saying nothing to each other, for a good twenty minutes.

At last, I said dryly, "Wow, Rukia. I can definitely understand why you brought me here. This will _definitely_ change my mind."

"Shut up, you jumped up little shit."

I snickered. "Got that from a book of living world vernacular, did you?"

"You'd better believe I did. Anyway, just wait. It won't be long now."

" _What_ won't be long?"

Rukia answered my question with a question. Her expression was veiled as she stared at the park. "Do ghosts come here often?"

"Well… actually, one does. He's about five years old. Pretty short. Likes to play in this park around noon. I think he died of leukemia. He stuck around because he wanted to be close to his family. Or that's what I've heard through the grapevine." Ghosts had those just like living people did.

"Is he a friend?"

"I've seen him around, but we've never really talked. Why all the questions?" I added curiously.

In silence, Rukia handed me the cell phone. It read:

 _Yumizawa Children's Park_

 _20M_

 _12:00 PM_

 _+-15MIN_

"This is one of your Hollow alerts," I said, tensing. "Within a twenty-meter radius of Yumizawa Children's Park, at noon, plus or minus fifteen minutes - a Hollow will appear."

"Spot on as usual, Ichigo," said Rukia calmly.

My face twisted in fury. "So that's it?! You're just going to _force_ me to do the job -?!"

But just then, there was a scream. I whirled around to see the pale little ghost of the boy run out from behind the line of trees, crying and screaming, a huge Hollow chasing him. Easy prey. A small fry, but an easy meal. This Hollow looked different. It was colored the same, had the same mask face, but it looked a bit like a giant spider. It was gaining on the little boy easily.

I was on the playground fencing, my hand reaching behind me for my zanpakutoh, before I could even think about what I was doing.

"Wait!"

I gritted my teeth and whirled around to Rukia. _"This had better damn well be vitally important to the moment at hand!"_ I hissed.

"I thought you didn't save strangers," said Rukia evenly. "I thought that was something heroes did."

I was incredulous. "Well - but - But what do you expect me to do, just stand here and watch him die?! _I can't do that!"_

"Exactly," said Rukia. "You can't not help people who are hurting. It's compulsive for you. And if you don't do my job, people all over your home will be hurting. You will be sacrificing them up because you feel like wallowing in self-pity instead of helping them. Do you want to be the cause of that?"

I paused.

Rukia was gaining steam. "When you refuse to do my job, Ichigo, you're not saying you're unwilling to save all souls equally. You're just saying you're only going to help the ones you're conveniently around for. And that's not fair. Is it?

"Look. What I'm saying is this: I know that you have to save people. I believe that you want to save people. I even think you're willing to sacrifice yourself for them. And that's all that's required for a starting Shinigami - a dedication to duty. What, do you think all Shinigami are saints? Let me divest you of that illusion before it goes any farther. I'm not asking you to be perfect.

"I'm asking you to do what comes naturally, and save people like that little boy."

I looked around. Saw the little boy trip and fall. Saw the Hollow come for him… And, knowing I was proving Rukia right, I did what came naturally. I jumped in between the boy and the Hollow, and cut through the Hollow in one straight shot. It dissolved with a shriek.

An unseen tension had lifted from Rukia's face. "So, Ichigo. Do you see what I mean? Have you made your decision to be a Shinigami?"

"... Yeah," I admitted. "I have. In the end, I guess you pegged me - I hate seeing hurting people. But even more than that, I hate the idea of ignoring hurting people. So I guess I'll take the job. But I do have one point of contention."

"And that is?" Rukia raised an eyebrow.

"It's not duty that's driving me," I said sarcastically, turning around. "Wanting to help hurting people is called 'not being an ass'."

Rukia frowned. "Ichigo, duty is vital to being a Shinigami -"

"Yeah, bullshit," I said bluntly. "Duty is a stupid word for what you're told you're supposed to do. No one would do anything as goddamn out of their mind as become a Shinigami over duty. Maybe they have noble family expectations. Maybe they want to move out of their villages and on to bigger and better things. Maybe they want to help people, like me. Maybe they want to feel important. Maybe they want to use the power trapped inside them. Maybe they just like the idea of beating the shit out of Hollows for a living, I don't know.

"But I do know for a fact that these non-saintly Shinigami do not do what they do out of duty. And neither will I. I'm doing it because I want to, not because I'm supposed to. Ya got that?"

"What about me?" Rukia challenged. "I am the perfect representation of duty. Where do I fit into your theory?"

"Oh, right, you and duty, of _course_."

"What is that supposed to mean?!" Rukia asked heatedly.

"Look at it from my perspective, Rukia. You took a near-fatal attack meant for a human and then gave your powers to that human - all for one measly soul you could have sent on to the Soul Society anyway. Right. That makes _perfect_ sense from a Shinigami's perspective." I sneered.

Rukia's eyes widened.

"... Since you've been so honest with me about your mother, I'll be honest with you," she said at last. "I lost someone very close to me to a Hollow. I - I killed him - it was my fault he died. And you look just like him. You could be his twin sister. I… I guess I was looking…"

"For atonement," I said in realization. Rukia looked up in surprise.

We stared at each other across the distance for a moment, a new understanding forming between us. Atonement - the one thing that had bound us together.

Then I closed the distance and stuck out my hand. "I'll help you with this Shinigami stuff until you get your powers back," I agreed. "But not because I'm supposed to. Because I want to. And because you saved my life. Agreed?"

Rukia gave a small but sincere smile. "Very well," she said, taking the hand. "I look forward to watching your finest efforts."

"Great. Now how do I perform Konso on this kid?" I said, turning around.

"It's not that hard. You shoot a jet of spirit energy -" I must have looked confused, because she simplified, "Just touch your hand to the blade handle and put it to his forehead. Oh, and Ichigo," said Rukia in amusement. "You do have to actually explain to him what's going on first."

I paused. I'd been about to Konso him without even explaining. "Oh yeah," I said sheepishly, and bent down to his level. "Hey, pipsqueak." He looked terrified. "There's an afterlife. Those monsters are called Hollows. I'm gonna send you on to the afterlife where people like me can protect you from monsters like that. 'Kay?"

The little boy nodded slowly. I put the hilt of the blade to his forehead, and pulled it back to reveal a glowing blue RELEASED stamp. The boy dissolved into a little blue dot, and a black Hell butterfly carried him up into the sky and beyond.

I looked over at Rukia, who still seemed amused. "What?" I said, annoyed.

She shook her head. "Nothing," she said. "Let's go back to class."

"Nah. I gotta go practice Konso on a few other ghosts," I said, backing up. "I have to help my friends pass on, right?" I was thinking of the old man and the little pigtailed girl.

"True enough," she said. "You know this city better than I do, new Shinigami." Rukia waved a hand. "Lead the way."


	4. Chapter 4

4.

"Well, Rukia. This is my family. My Dad sometimes pins the gardener next door down with karate moves to prove he's 'still got it.' My sister Karin's dream is to find a career where she can kick guys in the balls for a living. And my sister Yuzu… well, Yuzu's the only normal one in the family. We're not sure what happened." Ichigo said it all so matter of factly, even as her family sent her death glares.

Rukia was standing on the Kurosaki doorstep with a small bundle of loose summer dresses, undergarments, hygiene items, and pajamas Ichigo had helped her buy just earlier today. Her uniforms were mixed in with the pile. She was a bit uncertain - this was her introduction into the Kurosaki family's household.

She shouldn't have worried.

"Rukia-chan, I heard you're going through so much trouble!" Yuzu took her hand, emotional. "Please, stay with us for as long as you need to!"

"Just don't expect any favors. I'm still kicking your ass at sports and video games," announced Karin, crossing her arms.

"Oh, thank you," said Rukia, looking away demurely, feigning tearful emotion. "I've been through so much, I just need -" But Mr Kurosaki cut her off.

"I have already told Masaki's shrine that I now have four daughters!" Dad announced, and he charged at Rukia, his arms opened wide -

"Rukia, run!" Ichigo and her sisters called as one in alarm, but it was too late. Dad had crushed Rukia into one of his suffocating embraces.

"Be with me, my daughter!" he cried.

 _"Can't - breathe -"_ Rukia gasped out, her face purpling. She looked surprised and confused.

Ichigo put a hand over her eyes. "Trust you, Dad, to humiliate me in front of any important new friend."

"You're welcome, First Daughter!"

"Hey, why does she get to be first?!" Karin complained.

"My sweet daughters fighting over me…" said Mr Kurosaki wistfully.

"Dad," said Yuzu worriedly, "Rukia still can't breathe."

Karin freed Rukia by punching her father and telling him to stop being a perv. (His hand had been inching toward Rukia's breasts.)

"I love you too, my daughter Karin!" he said brightly from the ground. "Nice right hook!" He gave her a thumbs up and Karin glared.

Life with the Kurosakis from there was very surreal for Rukia. First, they insisted that she decorate her room.

"But it's a spare room," said Rukia, surprised and confused. "I'm only here temporarily."

"She's so insecure!" their father cried. "Relax, daughter of mine! Come into your bedroom!"

"Yes, this is your room now," said Yuzu warmly.

"You can't not decorate your room," Ichigo agreed, arms crossed, and even Karin was nodding.

They bought Rukia an armload full of stuffed bunnies to sit on her bed, helped her paste her drawings up onto the walls, bought her drawing equipment, got her a music player and some classical instrumental music, and their father even put up a ladder by the bedroom window so Rukia could climb up to the roof whenever she wanted to. Ichigo framed two pictures for her - one of Rukia with Ichigo and her family, one of Rukia with Ichigo and her friends - and put them both by her bedside. And then, with her summer dresses hanging, drying, from the closet, it looked uncomfortably like this human room was hers.

Which would be useful for infiltration purposes. But it still gave her disquiet. Part of her cried out at the inclusiveness of it all - Rukia had never been very good at making friends even in the Soul Society, with a few notable exceptions, and she had always been taught that it was demeaning to make friends with humans. Also, this couldn't last forever. One way or another, she would have to leave, and the thought of having a normal human bedroom instinctively made Rukia want to run away. But she couldn't run away, because Ichigo was still being trained as a Shinigami, needed her help, and had no other way to turn Shinigami besides Rukia's fingerless glove.

There was one night in particular. Rukia went to Ichigo's bedroom, almost ashamed, and returned the photographs.

"I'm sorry," she said awkwardly, as Ichigo was sitting on her bed, paused from doing homework, and staring at her in surprise. "It's just - I'm not -"

"It's fine," said Ichigo, hard to read, but her brown eyes were surprisingly understanding. Rukia returned to her room in relief, and then she heard music start to play from Ichigo's room, trailing down to Rukia's bedroom, where the door was usually kept open to give more of an idea of empty, freer space. It was a slow, sad song, and these were some of the lyrics:

 _But once you've learned to be lonely_

 _And lonely is the only thing you've known_

 _It begins to feel like home_

 _It becomes your comfort zone_

 _And once you've learned to be without someone_

 _And settle for the silence of an empty room_

 _Oh, it changes you_

 _There's a lot you have to undo_

 _Once you've learned to be lonely_

A risky move on Ichigo's part, but one that had hit Rukia to the core. She thought of her life in the Soul Society: her lack of friends, her distant noble brother, the fact that everyone else thought she was above them, her vast empty room in that vast empty compound. _Your comfort zone,_ the song had said. A human had written that, she thought, dizzy. A mere, frail, stupid human.

Later, when Ichigo was asleep, Rukia snuck inside her bedroom and took the frames back. Unbeknownst to Rukia herself, Ichigo woke up, stared at the space where the photos had been, and smiled.

Then there were the Kurosakis themselves. They were loud, enthusiastic, constantly bickering and shouting random things, sometimes teasingly violent - shoving and hitting each other. They were comfortable being nude around each other, and often the sisters took baths together like little kids. Dinners were constantly informal and enormously exciting, everyone sitting on an equal level around a round table in close quarters with each other. Karin introduced her to living world sports, and the mysterious world of "movies" and "video games" (the latter with Ichigo's help); Yuzu helped her coordinate her wardrobe; Ichigo insisted on feeding Rukia extra food ("you look like you're starving, eat up!" she said worriedly at practically every meal); their father showered her with affection in the goofiest and most grandiose manner possible. He and Ichigo had an interesting relationship - a bickering one, but there was good nature and enormous fondness there, Rukia could see it. In fact, most of family life seemed to revolve around Ichigo, because she was so motherly and her sisters admired her so much.

There was something warm about it, being fed breakfast and then headed off to school with a "Have a good day!" amid a mess of siblings. Meeting up with and walking to school alongside Ichigo's friends. Rukia had never really experienced that before.

She told herself not to get emotionally attached. They were just humans, after all, and this was only temporary. She was just acting around them, when she smiled and acted bright and happy. Just acting.

But Ichigo and her life were, in their own way, very hard to resist.

* * *

"We need to start your Shinigami training," Rukia said one day.

Ichigo nodded, looking determined. "Yes," she said. "Let's begin. First things first - I want to learn Kido, and I'd like to master Konso a little better as well."

"Perfectionist much? Shouldn't we focus on destroying Hollows first?" Rukia questioned, frowning.

"I've already killed two Hollows. Imprecisely, maybe, but still. I'm a good fighter. But I don't know anything about the other parts of being a Shinigami," said Ichigo. There was that thirst for knowledge again, a thirst that could not be quenched. "Could you teach me those?"

"... Yes," Rukia decided cautiously. "But we will need a place to practice."

* * *

So they took the bus out of the city until they finally reached open land, empty fields, a few afternoons a week. This was where Rukia taught Ichigo about her spirit energy. She would slam Ichigo's soul out of her body, leave the body off to the side, and train her in her Shinigami form out in a field.

"First things first: push some spirit energy into your zanpakutoh," Rukia said. She decided to start with Konso. It was, at least in theory, simpler.

But Ichigo looked bewildered. "What do you mean?" she asked. "How do I do that?"

Rukia stared. "You… you don't know how to move your spirit energy? Then how have you already defeated two Hollows?!" she asked, incredulous.

"I dunno." Ichigo shrugged, still looking at her funny.

This was incredible for Rukia. Ichigo had made it to rookie Shinigami - without ever consciously moving any of her spirit energy. This meant that: the power Rukia had sensed and seen in action so far? That was just unconscious spirit energy. Like a sink tap occasionally dripping a drop of water here or there by accident.

So what would happen if the sink were turned… on?

"Okay," said Rukia, suddenly determined. "We're going to help you feel your spirit energy." She reached out her hand and shouted, "Binding spell, the first! Sai!"

Ichigo's legs and arms sprang together and she fell over flat onto the ground.

"Now," said Rukia matter of factly, "break out of this binding spell."

Ichigo stared. "Uh… how?"

Rukia thought maybe she needed a little incentive. "Aww, stupid little Ichigo," she said, faking contempt. "Can't even get out of a stupid little binding spell." In actuality, Rukia's Kido spells were not simple to get out of, even when she was weakened, but the goading was to try to get Ichigo's blood pumping. That should trigger an increase in spirit energy.

Sure enough, Ichigo flushed and her face twisted in disbelief and anger. Rukia felt a sudden increase in spiritual pressure, one that nearly sucked the breath right out of her, and then golden characters were suddenly flexing around Ichigo's form. "Ichigo, that's it!" she gasped out, brightening. "That's your spirit energy!"

Ichigo looked down in surprise. She could feel a sort of electricity coursing through her veins, all running into that center - the same place Rukia had stabbed her, the same place where the spirit that had sucked out Rukia's Shinigami powers had come from. Ichigo reached inside - and something unlocked.

There was a sudden BOOM and an explosion of power that knocked Rukia off her feet. She skidded along the ground… And looked up, gasping.

A mini crater of scorched earth surrounded Ichigo, who was now standing upright, puzzled, freed from the binding spell. Testing, she flexed her spirit energy - and Rukia choked, unable to breathe. Alarmed, Ichigo sucked up all the spirit energy again - and Rukia relaxed.

"Thank God we did this out in a field," said Rukia at last, and they both laughed weakly.

Despite her laughter, though, Rukia had noticed - Ichigo's already massive sword had become even bigger.

* * *

So that was step one. Step two was getting Ichigo to actually control the spirit energy trapped inside her. Rukia decided to start her out with the beginning step to Kido - forming a sphere of spirit energy around oneself.

And Ichigo had absolutely no success.

Basically, when it came to controlling her energy, she _sucked_. There was just too much of it. She couldn't get _anything_ to form around her - not even an uneven or incomplete sphere.

Rukia watched her, frowning, puzzled. At last, she decided to try something Shiba Kaien-dono had once taught her before his death.

"The Shiba specialize in Kido," he had said, "even though it's hard for us to master. Our unusually large spirit energy means we have had to learn shortcuts in order to master Kido. But once we have it mastered, we are among the greatest of them all." Then he'd grinned sheepishly. "Not to sound arrogant or dramatic or anything."

Kaien-dono had taught all those shortcuts to Rukia.

"Okay, stop," she said, putting out a hand.

Ichigo was stubborn. "I think I can keep trying -" she began.

"I did not mean stop trying to learn Kido," Rukia clarified. "I meant, stop how you're learning it. Try this. Close your eyes." Ichigo did so. "Imagine a circle. Fill in that circle with black color. Imagine yourself moving toward the circle…"

And Rukia's eyes widened as she trailed off in amazement. Ichigo's perfect sphere was growing larger and larger - it was now roughly the size of a house.

The typical size of a sphere like this one? The size of a tall human.

"Ichigo, stop, stop!" said Rukia in alarm as it kept growing. Ichigo opened her eyes, the spirit energy phasing out, echoing around them, rippling with power.

"Was that good?" she asked.

"... Yes," said Rukia weakly. "That was very good. Now." She suddenly became stern. "Make it smaller. The more control you have, the more of these big spells you'll be able to do."

* * *

After that came _long_ weeks of training.

Slowly, Ichigo began learning spells and mastering Konso. And when she did get something, she got it quickly and in a very big way. Soon enough, her Kido was massively, alarmingly powerful.

Her attack explosions were huge enough to rival Kaien-dono's or a Captain's. The first time, they hadn't been expecting this. Then the explosion had begun echoing out around its place of origin and Ichigo had yelled, "RUN!" They'd both sprinted away and were lifted off the ground by the explosion, skidding, their ears ringing.

But there was more: her shields were impenetrable, her healing immediate, her binding most likely impossible to break out of even for an experienced Shinigami. She also began practicing her Konso on ghosts around Tokyo - and, the usual problems Shinigami had with loosening particularly grounded souls? Ichigo barely blinked at them.

Her sword also became smaller and smaller until it was the size of a regular katana. Not because she'd lost power. But because her control had gotten better.

And, together with her expertise in kendo and karate, and her increased speed, this made her quite deadly for a rookie.

"Good job, Rukia," said Urahara, smiling, the next time she went to visit him at his shop for supplies. "Young Ichigo's progress is coming along even better than I expected."

"She is a very driven person," said Rukia reservedly, but inside she was guilty and worried. What exactly did Urahara have planned for Ichigo?

* * *

One thing Rukia learned on weekends with Ichigo was that she was _fashionable._

Ichigo was tough, but no one ever forgot that she was a woman. Her bone and wood jewelry, her messy hair buns, her Black Opium perfume, her flame red lipstick and cocoa eyeliner, they enforced this - but so, it turned out, did her clothes. She would dress in lovely colors of pumpkin, rust, dark peach, ivory, peach-pink, turquoise, gold, deep purple, and even in skinny jeans and a large shirt she would leave Rukia feeling very plain and inexperienced in fashion indeed. She also had her quirky little details - the differently colored nails, the self-made bracelets. She was a whirlwind of color.

The scars on Ichigo's wrists also surprised Rukia, but she never mentioned them. They were Ichigo's business, not hers. Perhaps Rukia would also have her scars if she thought she'd killed her mother.

Weekends were usually times for fun. Ichigo had lots of things in her world that she wanted to show Rukia, and Rukia - who had mostly learned about the living world from books, and quickly learned from Ichigo's constant corrections that these were out of date and inadequate - was an interested student.

The city of Tokyo was an ode unto itself. Ichigo took her to sumo wrestling stables, which were bizarre and amazing - basically, big, grunting, sweating guys went at each other in the brawling-est way possible, and wrestled each other to the ground, and people paid to watch. Ichigo snickered at Rukia's expression and placed bets.

Pachinko parlors were fun - the object of the pachinko game was, quite simply, to get as many balls as possible through a series of pins and into the center hole. Cat cafes and themed restaurants were fun as well - cat cafes being cafes where people could play with cats while sipping at their drinks (Ichigo introduced Rukia to a drink called "coffee" that made her bounce relentlessly off the walls for several hours yet apparently wasn't restricted - and also brought her cat, Daisuke, for Rukia to play with), and themed restaurants being simply restaurants with a particular theme. Ichigo took her to several, including a jail-themed restaurant and a robot-themed restaurant with singing, dancing robots, but Ichigo's personal favorite was the Christon Cafe, which was themed like a "gothic cathedral" - a Western earthly building that was impossible to describe and had to be experienced, but had dark religious undertones.

This brought Rukia to the Harajuku district. Goth Lolitas also had dark undertones. They wore tiny black dresses and curled hair and black eye makeup and carried black parasols (Ichigo had little crystals hanging from hers, and paper strawberries pasted all over its top). Ichigo loved visiting the Harajuku district all dressed up in this manner, but the thing about the Harajuku district was that everyone was dressed up as bizarrely as she was. It was like some sort of circus of fashion. Her friends there were all highly eccentric, squealing over how cute Rukia was and then - despite Rukia's protests - yanking her away in a great crowd and getting her all dressed up and giving her her very own "Harajuku" look. Mori girls also wore lots of makeup and a funny hairstyle, but were more into loose earthy clothes and old-age Western country girl dresses and boots. Ichigo took pictures.

Rukia wasn't sure how to feel about this. If Ichigo ever met her brother, those pictures could technically be used against her as blackmail.

Then again, if Ichigo ever met Byakuya-nii-sama, he'd probably try to kill her, so maybe there wouldn't be any room for blackmail.

Then Ichigo and her mostly-older Harajuku friends went barhopping in the Golden Gai neighborhood, dragging Rukia along with them and getting her up onstage, highly drunk, to sing some very bad karaoke at one of the bars. (Ichigo also filmed this.) After that, it was a bit of a blur. They ended up stumbling home past men lying prone, flat-out unconscious from drink, in the streets. For some reason, no one touched them. Japan was a highly wealthy country, and Ichigo explained later that it was generally understood that people like that were not to be disturbed. Tokyo expected high levels of ethics from its inhabitants, as well as high standards of cleanliness.

Rukia was afraid they made too much noise coming home late, her and Ichigo, their friends squealing goodbyes from the street, but Ichigo's father never came out to meet them. Rukia apologized to him for letting Ichigo stay out late the next day - drinking at Ichigo's age was technically illegal in Japan, and Rukia, as the older one, felt personally responsible for how the night had gone. Ichigo's father had an interesting reaction.

"I let Karin and Yuzu drink at festivals, and they're even younger," he said, shrugging. So he had known. "She's not a kid anymore. I don't control her actions. She has a good head on her shoulders and for the most part she's very responsible. Occasionally, she calls and says she'll be out late and we order takeout. It's not a big deal to me. I'm trying to encourage individualism so we can maintain a good relationship. I hope she had fun."

Ichigo also introduced her to DDR - a game called Dance Dance Revolution - which basically entailed acting like a complete spazz, and which Rukia was horrible at. And Ichigo took her to a long street of restaurants called Piss Alley, where bizarre foods like grilled salamander, snake liquor, frog sashimi, and raw pig testicles were sold at - for a Soul Society person - absurdly cheap prices.

All food was cheap in the living world, as an interesting side note. And food was everywhere. You could even get food at vending machines, big machines where you could slip in coins or notes and pre-packaged food was thrown out of the machine at you. Ichigo had to show her how to open and use pre-packaged food and drinks, and they got into a whole history lesson on the Industrial Revolution, a period in human history when assembly lines full of people and machines started making the same thing over and over again and selling it to the masses - and thus large "chains" of businesses had been born. You could also get a number of other things from vending machines, like condoms and hair care products, but Ichigo explained this was mostly unique to Tokyo.

The mention of condoms, of course, brought Rukia's adventures to Love Hotels. Ichigo booked them a stay for one night in a Love Hotel, and Rukia didn't understand why they were staying at a hotel until they walked into a big glowing traditional-looking palace compound like place, and paid and got a room number from a slotted little door instead of an actual person at a desk, and then entered a huge bedroom decorated with traditional shoji that included a traditional looking bridge and a vast bed for two. There was a gigantic bath in the other room.

Ichigo saw her face and burst into hysterical laughter. "Love Hotels are where people go to have kinky weird sex!" she managed through her giggles.

"I am _not_ having sex with you, Ichigo!" said Rukia in fierce, blushing alarm. She'd gone along with everything else, but this was where she drew the line.

"I know that! I'm not even a lesbian! I just wanted to see your face when I took you into a love hotel room!" Ichigo finally collapsed, overcome with laughter.

Rukia sighed. _Humans._

Then they took a bath together, onsen-style, and sat cross-legged on the vast bed as Ichigo explained in gory, enthusiastic detail all the other rooms that had been available, from boat rooms to carousel rooms to UFO rooms to Disney rooms to S&M rooms to Victorian-era rooms to under-the-sea rooms to car rooms to classrooms to - weirdly enough - rooms that looked like they were from other cities. Half of this stuff was so living world Rukia didn't even know what it _was_ , let alone why people would want to have sex in one, and then Ichigo had to explain those things to her as well. She clearly found the whole thing highly amusing.

It was all quite mystifying. Rukia asked Ichigo if sexual morals really were as loose here as she'd heard, and despite the appearance of love hotels, Ichigo insisted they weren't. While courting had evolved into dating, a sort of game where people dated around with different other people to find one they liked and then left the others perhaps with emotion but with little remorse to marry their final singular choice, sex was still for most people (like Ichigo) a highly intimate and specialized thing, and one should never hug or kiss someone they didn't know really well in Japanese public. Even holding hands in public was thought to be a bit much, at least in Japan. Dating and sexuality were considered private affairs.

"So how do people greet each other?" Rukia asked. "I heard it's by curtsying."

"Yeah, maybe over a hundred years ago," said Ichigo flatly. "You have to understand, here in the living world, a whole generation can die in a hundred years and another generation can be on their way out. Now, it's typical to shake hands or bow with someone, or to just say hello."

So sometimes, it was actually simpler than Rukia had thought it would be.

On a slightly more normal note, Rukia also joined all the clubs Ichigo had joined, because of course she had to be around Ichigo all the time to alert her about Shinigami duties. These at-school clubs were mainly kendo club and karate club (both of which had lots of sparring involved; Tatsuki led karate, and Rukia also met Ichigo's older friend Mizuho in kendo).

Ichigo really did seem to love books. She introduced Rukia to her personal favorite living world politics, philosophy, books, music, and movies (a kind of pre-recorded theater). Then there were video games, games played on electronic devices. Rukia took an especial interest in things she had never experienced before, in particular the horror genre and comics, especially in the sci-fi and fantasy genres. So Ichigo let her borrow her horror video games, Stephen King novels, comic books and manga volumes, and urban exploration videos (urban exploration being a filmed exploration of creepy abandoned hospitals and asylums, especially late at night). Almost all horror, to Rukia's fascination, featured death in the scariest manner possible - almost as if all humans had embarked on a mission to mutually terrify each other over the all-consuming idea of death. The idea of "ghosts" really was a common one, and most abandoned places were said to be haunted, even when they really weren't.

She asked Ichigo about this, and Ichigo explained, "I like seeing death played out in fiction. When it goes too far for me are with psychics and scary reality TV show hosts - people who try to make money frightening people over something that's not really there. That's where I draw the line and where it stops being enjoyable for me."

Ichigo also took Rukia rock-climbing once - there were whole buildings and organizations who built fake walls specifically dedicated to the practice, and all sorts of special equipment had been made specifically for rock climbing.

One of the biggest and most amazingly welcoming things Ichigo did for Rukia, though, was immediately let her into her circle of friends.

Ichigo's friends group at school sat underneath a tree by the baseball diamond during lunch. Rukia was introduced to everyone in the big rowdy group, and they all sat in a giant circle, eating, talking, and joking. Rukia was shy at first, which was true of her but also projected the kind of image she was trying to project, but Ichigo's enthusiastic friends wouldn't let her get away with that and tried to include her by asking her questions about herself. Yet they always evaded questions about her family quite neatly, only asking Rukia questions in what they considered "safe" territory. The girls (mainly the gossip Mahana) tried to set her up on dates with several boys, despite her protests, and the boys in Ichigo's class flirted with her relentlessly - embarrassingly, Ichigo had to tell Rukia that was what they were doing.

Mizuiro was the best flirt. By far. Sado was too quiet, and Keigo too loud and perverted, but Mizuiro could make you think you were the loveliest person in the room. Ichigo said this was a ploy of Mizuiro's, one that usually worked like a charm with older women.

"Mizuiro's one of those modern daters who ain't looking to settle down and get married," said Ichigo bluntly. "He just likes the feeling of being in a relationship, especially a sexual one. Don't be with him if you're looking long-term."

"Of - of course not - I never would -" Rukia sputtered, red-faced.

Ichigo smirked. "Relax, Rukia," she said. "You don't have to do anything you're not comfortable with."

They also hung out with Ichigo's friends outside of school.

Tatsuki and Orihime seemed to be Ichigo's closest friends. Ichigo's Dad called them "The Terrible Threesome." Tatsuki, Orihime, and Ichigo took Rukia out shopping with them, counseling her in the art of fashion - made more complex by the fact that they all had a different fashion sense, with Tatsuki liking shorts and cargo pants and Orihime liking long Asian and flower print skirts - and sometimes they all met up in one girl's kitchen and cooked and baked sweets together. (Orihime had the _bizarrest_ taste in food and the biggest sweet tooth. Tatsuki loved apple pie. Ichigo loved seafood and spicy food and chocolate desserts - including chocolate jalapeno milkshakes. They collectively introduced Rukia to pickle-and-mayo sandwiches, which were delicious.)

They also introduced Rukia to their dorky dancing routine. Incidentally, Ichigo sometimes also did this with her little sisters in their living room. Rukia felt really stiff and awkward at first, but once you loosened up a bit it could actually be kind of fun! The blackmail material was understood and accepted by this point.

And sometimes Ichigo just hung out with one girl or the other. She sparred a lot and traded manga comics with Tatsuki, for example, and sometimes they went to the arcade (a big shop full of electronic games to play) together, whereas she preferred snacking and watching stand-up comedy in front of the TV with Orihime, who had a great sense of humor and was a consummate daydreamer. (Seemingly an airhead, she opened her mouth and stared off into space a lot - but she had these surprising moments of great insight.)

But Tatsuki, Mahana, Mizuho, and Orihime weren't Ichigo's only friends.

Ryou was a track star. That meant she was in a whole club solely dedicated to people running really fast. They visited the school's baseball stands to watch one of Ryou's "track meets", which consisted of Ryou and others racing each other around the field, leaping over various obstacles put in place specifically to hamper them. Ryou was actually almost as scary as Tatsuki and Ichigo, in her own way - she was an honor student who served as class president.

Chizuru was a part of the Gay Straight Alliance - she was a big proponent of homosexuality, and flirted with Rukia almost as much as the boys did. Chizuru, though, seemed to flirt with everyone. It was kind of her thing.

Michiru, rather shy at first, was the one Rukia had gotten to know least, so one day she sat down next to Michiru and they bonded over a shared love of bunnies, stuffed animals, and arts and crafts. _Finally,_ Rukia thought, _someone who gets it!_

And she didn't even realize how warmly and enthusiastically she was talking with a human.


	5. Chapter 5

5.

"So where are we going today?" I asked Rukia as we were walking. I had gotten used to our little "training sessions" being outside the city, but today we were walking toward Karuizawa park.

"You are going to hit baseballs," said Rukia, and I stopped.

" _That's_ my training?" I asked disbelievingly.

"I'm teaching you more about Hollow hunting!" said Rukia, frowning. "The trick to Hollow hunting is to cut through the Hollow's head in one clear shot, preferably from behind, though not always. So, to practice this, you are going to hit a hundred balls. Some have heads drawn on them, some hands. The hand balls have pepper in them, so you'll know if you've made a bad hit. Your job is to only hit the balls with heads."

I was uncomfortable. Rukia loved art, but was not necessarily a _good_ artist. I honestly wasn't sure if I could tell the difference between her heads and her hands. "Couldn't you have just, you know… told me this?" I tried.

Rukia scowled. "I'm trying to get the practice ingrained into you. No complaining! Now, I have a question for you." I raised an eyebrow. She held up her book. "Is this contemporary language? Shinigami training says it is."

I took the book curiously. "No," I said at last. "This isn't contemporary at all. But the reason you're probably reading it is because it has to do with aspects of living world culture: Heaven and God."

"Heaven and God?" Rukia echoed curiously.

"See, humans don't know what happens after death. So someone tells a story about what happens after death, that story becomes a belief. One of the most common _hopeful_ beliefs about death says that after death all the 'good' souls go to a perfect region of bliss called Heaven, ruled by a king called God. This God created all of heaven and earth and is supposedly all loving and all powerful." I made a face.

"But that sounds good," said Rukia. "Why the look?"

"Because I see far too much ugliness in the world to believe in things like a region of perfection and an all-loving God," I said firmly, handing the book back to her. "That's why."

Just then, there was a thump, the sound of a cry, and the vrooming of a car motor. We both looked around, and found Orihime lying there in the street, her grocery bags around her, a car driving away.

"Orihime!" I cried out, running over to her, Rukia right behind me, but to my relief Orihime was getting up even as I was speaking. "Did that car hit you?" I asked in concern, bending down to look her over.

"Uh… maybe?" said Orihime.

"Maybe?! You don't know?!" I yelped.

"Don't worry! I'm fine!" said Orihime, brightening cheerfully. "Really, I am!"

"That car hit you and it just drove away? Aren't you angry?" I asked incredulously.

"Nope! I'm fine!" She beamed. She really did seem to be standing okay and everything. Her eyes weren't unfocused, no swaying. Weird. A car hit her and she was perfectly fine?

"Well, as long as you're okay…" I said suspiciously.

"Why do you look like that?" Orihime whined.

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe because you're super clumsy and you're always getting hurt and you always say you're fine?" I glared.

"I do not do that!" said Orihime vehemently.

"Well… actually…" Rukia put in.

"Oh, not you too, Rukia-chan!" Orihime wailed. Rukia winced and shrugged apologetically. Then she pointed behind Orihime.

"Your groceries," she reminded her awkwardly.

"Oh yeah! My leeks, butter, banana, and bean jam jelly! They're all fine too!" said Orihime brightly, going to pick up her groceries.

Rukia and I shared an amused look. "Should we ask her?" I said.

"No," said Rukia, "on further reflection, I don't want to know what she's making."

"Fair enough," I laughed. Then, as Orihime was walking back over, Rukia suddenly frowned and began staring at her leg.

"How long have you had that bruise?" Rukia said suddenly.

The bruise caught my eye, too. It was all blue and purple, in the shape of a great claw mark.

"Oh, I don't know," said Orihime, looking down. But that was no surprise, Orihime didn't know when she got any of her bruises. "Maybe just now when the car hit me?"

"That looks like it hurts. Are you sure you're okay?" I said frankly, concerned.

"Oh, it hurts a little, but I'm fine," Orihime insisted. She stared in surprise down at Rukia. Rukia had bent over to stare intently at the bruise. I knew that face. That was her Shinigami Face.

I began to connect the dots. I knew what car injuries looked like, from my time nursing, and that didn't look like one. It looked like a claw mark. What if it _was_ a claw mark? No Hollow would pull someone out of the way of a car, but if you pushed a person into one… easy prey.

I looked around. The Hollow seemed to be gone. Neither Rukia nor I would have sensed it. Rukia had no powers and sensing was one of the only things I still didn't know anything about yet.

"Rukia-chan, are you okay?" Orihime was asking. "You look really serious."

I turned back to Orihime and smiled, saving Rukia. "She's probably just wondering if someone pushed you into the way of the car," I half joked. Rukia looked over at me in surprise, with the kind of expression that told me I'd guessed right, even as Orihime squealed.

"That's a horrible thing to say!" she said.

"Just in case, Orihime, why don't we hang out at your place tonight? We could have a sleepover," I suggested.

"Yes, Orihime-chan." Rukia stood, smiling. "Let's have a sleepover!"

"Oooh, ooh, okay! I know, I'll call Tatsuki-chan too!" Orihime jumped up and down, cheering, and so we followed her back to her apartment.

While Orihime called Tatsuki over the phone, Rukia hung back to talk with me. "Does that girl have any family?" she muttered.

"Orihime? No, she lives alone. She had an older brother who raised her, but he died of a car accident in our clinic a few year ago," I said. "That's how Orihime and I first met."

Rukia looked even more serious.

"What would her dead brother have to do with a Hollow pushing her in front of a car, though?" I asked, confused.

"Now's not the time," Rukia muttered tightly. Then Orihime turned back to smile and talk with us, and I couldn't respond.

"Come on, slow-pokes!" she teased. "It's sleepover time!"

* * *

We stopped by Orihime's house to drop off our things, and then hurried back to the Kurosaki place to get pajamas and sleeping bags. As we were heading back toward my house, I asked irritably, "Is _now_ the time?"

Rukia sighed, looking away. "... All Hollows used to be ghosts," she muttered. "Plus souls. Either they're attacked by other Hollows, or they're left without a world too long, so grounded to this one that no Shinigami is able to send them on. They lose their hearts and minds, and become Hollows to feed the emptiness inside them. That's why we attack them from behind, slaying them through the head in one stroke - so that we never learn the human identity behind the mask."

I stopped, infuriated, and grabbed her by the collar. "I thought they were monsters!" I snarled. "You never told me I'd be killing _people_!"

"They're not people anymore! They eat souls for sustenance! They are monsters now! And you're not killing them." Rukia pulled herself with dignity out of my grasp and straightened her dress. "You're cleansing them of their sins as Hollows and helping them pass on. That's what zanpakutoh _do_. It's also what Shinigami do. Our job is simply to find and ferry lost souls."

"So you think her brother is after her?" I asked, letting go of my anger only begrudgingly. "Then why haven't I seen him? I guess if he was only ever hanging around their apartment…"

"Exactly. All Hollows begin their hunt by attacking the ones they loved in life, the ones they feel left them behind," said Rukia darkly. "It makes sense, in a twisted sort of way. And it takes a long time to become a Hollow. So if he died a few years ago… the timing would be right."

"So we have to hurry back to Orihime's place -" I realized.

Rukia nodded. "Before her brother eats her," she added grimly.

* * *

It was surprisingly hard to have a fun sleepover when you half expected a Hollow to come bursting through the door at any minute.

Tatsuki's Mom sent over boatloads of warm, filling comfort food, mainly because Tatsuki insisted she was _not_ eating anything that had leeks, banana, and bean jam jelly in the same meal, and the four of us all sat around on our sleeping bags in Orihime's apartment and chatted. Mostly about boys.

"What about you?" said Tatsuki to me, grinning. "What does the great and fearsome Kurosaki Ichigo want in a guy?"

"I don't really know," I said, shrugging.

"Bullshit!" called Tatsuki. "I call bullshit!" Orihime giggled.

"Actually, so do I," Rukia admitted, crossing her arms and smirking.

"No, I'm serious," I admitted. "I… haven't really thought about it. I've never seen myself as the 'happily married' type. I suppose he'd have to be intelligent. Strong enough to be able to stand up to me. And he'd have to be able to deal with my big personality and weird, bizarre, informal family."

"You'd also have to be able to make each other laugh," Tatsuki mandated. "No offense, Ichigo, but you take everything way too seriously."

"No, I get that. I guess I'm looking for a friend," I admitted. I turned to Orihime. "And you?"

Orihime smiled. "Someone really dark and stern," she said. "So I could cheer him up!"

"And I'd need a guy who'd be okay with me kicking the crap out of him on a day to day basis!" said Tatsuki, punching the air. We all looked exasperated. "What about you, Rukia?"

"Rukia's too mature for all this," I said, only half-joking. Rukia had to be at least a hundred years old.

"No, I'll take that question," said Rukia. "I'm definitely looking for someone with less formality than me. Who can make me smile and laugh, make me feel included." Rukia nodded. "And strength is a must-have. I would say a strong, fun extrovert."

Just then, there was a thundering crash. We all looked around. "What was that?" Tatsuki asked.

Rukia and I looked at each other, tense.

Then, before we could stop Orihime, she'd run forward. "Enraku! You fell and you're all torn up!" she cried, picking up a ripped old teddy bear from where it had fallen off a shelf.

Rukia stood in growing alarm. "Orihime, wait -!"

But it was too late. A Hollow hand suddenly jumped out of the teddy bear and plunged a claw straight through Orihime's chest, and out popped her soul, chain and all. It retreated into a corner in fear. Her body collapsed, unconscious.

"Orihime!" Tatsuki had run forward, but the Hollow - massive, red, scaled, and clawed with a long tail, appeared from out of the teddy bear and threw her across the floor and against the far wall, beginning to choke her. She struggled, making pitiful noises, and the Hollow's eyes narrowed in a kind of sneer.

"Rukia!" I called, filled with anger and determination, but Rukia had already reached for her glove. She pushed my Shinigami soul out of my body and I ran forward, cutting off the Hollow's arm where it was holding down Tatsuki. It howled and shrieked, backing up, clutching a bleeding stump. It didn't seem able to regenerate the way the first one could.

I took a stance in front of it, but inside I was troubled. This monster… had once been that handsome brown-haired man I had seen dying in our hospital? Had he really just killed his own sister?

I was so distracted I didn't see the tail coming at me until it was too late.

My sword was slammed against my face as I was thrown off to the side of the apartment. Blood colored my vision for a moment, accompanied by Rukia rushing to my side calling, "Ichigo! Ichigo!"

"I can hear you, I can hear you," I groaned, sitting upright.

"What's wrong? It's not that much stronger than the other two!"

"I know. But it's Orihime's brother," I said quietly. "I can't -"

"But you're not destroying him," Rukia emphasized. "You're saving him. His sister isn't fully dead yet. Her Chain of Fate is still attached to her body. As long as she doesn't do anything stupid -"

But Orihime had heard our words and run out in front of the Hollow, holding out her arms. "Oniichan!" she cried, determined. "Stop!"

"Shit! Goddamnit!" I hissed, running in that direction. Blood was still getting into my eyes, which _didn't help!_

But it was too late. The Hollow had grabbed a shrieking Orihime up in its one hand and slammed itself through the apartment wall, carrying her away. Tatsuki shrieked as she suddenly saw a hole appear in the wall. I ran out after the Hollow and waved a hand, crying out a kido incantation. A huge explosion rocked the Hollow as a part of it was blown to pieces. Orihime fell from its grasp, and I was already on my way to her, leaping down air levels.

I grabbed her soul, tossed it upward, and Rukia standing at the hole in the apartment wall caught it. Tatsuki was standing beside her.

Tatsuki turned to Rukia. "You know what's going on here?" she asked determinedly. Her shoulder was bleeding, but she barely seemed to notice.

"Tatsuki-chan!" Orihime called, but Tatsuki didn't even blink.

"She can't hear you, Orihime," said Rukia, apparently to no one, and then she turned to Tatsuki. "Yes, I know what's going on."

"How do I help Ichigo and Orihime?!" Tatsuki demanded, pointing at the two prone forms. Orihime saw her own body and she gasped, her eyes widening.

"Right now," said Rukia, turning back to the fight outside in the air that Tatsuki couldn't see, "We help them by not getting in their way."

* * *

It was like playing some bizarre game of tag. I kept running around and around the Hollow, so that wherever it turned, I was blocking it from going anywhere. At last, it roared in frustration.

"Why do you stop me, Kurosaki Ichigo?!" it howled.

"So you things can talk, eh? I'm the one who should be asking the questions, asshole! I know you used to be Inoue Sora. So why are you attacking your sister?!" I demanded.

"You don't understand," the Hollow hissed, the light in its eyes narrowing again. "I was lonely. I saw myself fade a little more from Orihime's heart each day! When I died, she prayed for me every day. It was her prayers that gave me peace. But then she became friends with you and that other brat Arisawa! And she prayed for me less and less. Then she entered high school and she stopped praying for me altogether! I was lonely… so lonely sometimes I just wanted to…"

"Oniichan, no, wait, that's not how it was at all -!" Orihime cried, and her brother whirled around.

"Shut up!" he shouted, and flew at her. "Whose fault do you think it is that I became this way - ?!"

I leaped in front of the apartment and drew another kido spell, making a shield. He pushed me further and further back… But I held.

"Do not bother, Orihime," said Rukia quietly. "He is a monster now. There is nothing you can do."

"Orihime? Orihime, everything's going to be okay!" said Tatsuki, with a false sense of calm, looking around wildly for her friend.

Suddenly, I flexed my spirit energy. The shield curled around the Hollow's hand, crushing it into a bloody pulp, and I slashed out at the Hollow - it dodged, but a great slash of blood was made across its front. It fell to the ground below, crippled, handless, and cut and blown to pieces - but its tail lashed around at me from behind again, and this time I cut right through it.

"Oniichan!" Orihime screamed out as the Hollow fell to the waiting ground below. "Wait! I have to talk to him!"

"Orihime, that's not a good idea -" I began, but she interrupted me.

"No, please." She looked up at me with pleading eyes. "The reason why he took me away and raised me is because our parents were abusive! He grew up in that kind of environment, but he raised me because he didn't want me to have to go through the same! He's - he's not usually like this, he's not like you think he is, he's -" Tears shone in her eyes.

"It's true Hollows can erupt from perfectly kind, peaceful souls," Rukia admitted, when I looked to her. "But I don't know if he can change. I don't know if -"

"Let me try," said Orihime.

* * *

Cautiously, I stepped down beside the dying Hollow in the street, Orihime's soul on my back.

"Orihime…" he writhed, moaning. "She's mine… I won't let anyone else have her…"

"Orihime is Orihime, jackass," I said, crossing my arms, scowling. "She doesn't belong to anyone. Least of all you."

"Oniichan," she said, kneeling down beside his monstrous form, "I'm sorry. You're here because that day, as they were loading you into the ambulance, I pleaded for you not to go… That's why you're still here, isn't it?"

I remembered it. She'd been crying, running beside the ambulance, screaming, "Oniichan! Don't go! Don't leave me all alone!" Then she'd fallen back, and I'd run up and put a hand on her shoulder. She'd hugged me, crying, and I'd watched as the ambulance drove him away. By that point, my Mom had already died… so in a way, I understood.

Now, Orihime continued speaking, "I felt that you were always with me. Even earlier today… with the car… you pulled me out of the way, didn't you? But if I keep relying on you forever, you'll never be able to rest. So… when I talked to you about happy things… I was trying to get you to see… that you didn't have _have_ to stick around for me anymore if you didn't want to. But I'm sorry. That made you sad. I'm sorry." There were tears in her eyes.

And a strange thing began to happen. The mask fazed in - and out. First we saw Sora. Then the Hollow. Sora. Then the Hollow. A howling scream erupted from the monster.

"He's fighting the Hollow inside him." I turned around to find Rukia standing there with a very confused Tatsuki. "I get the feeling a great big Hollow is after you, Ichigo - one that is sending lesser Hollows around to do its bidding. This man didn't become a Hollow himself. He was attacked and made a Hollow by another. When you're made a Hollow by another Hollow… you must be ultimately loyal to that Hollow. This big Hollow I'm speaking of, he changed a soul you had an emotional connection to, hoping to get at you. But this man… Orihime's brother… he's fighting the Hollow within."

Orihime and I both turned to look at the Hollow. "Hey… I can kind of see them…" I heard Tatsuki whisper.

I decided to give Sora a little help. "Hey… you see these star hairpins holding back Orihime's hair?" Orihime and Tatsuki looked completely different - Tatsuki tall and lanky with a black pixie cut, Orihime small and curvy with long caramel-colored hair. But Orihime's trademark were the star hairpins that were always tying her hair back. "Orihime told me a long time ago: she wears them every day because they were a last gift from her late brother."

Then the mask broke, shattering into a thousand glowing blue pieces, and Orihime's brother's face was freed. Orihime smiled blissfully. "Oniichan…"

"Thank you… Orihime. Thank you… Ichigo," said Sora softly. As a human, he had a gentle voice. Then he grabbed my sword and held it up to his face. "If I stick around, I'll just revert back to being a monster," he said. "So now… while I still have a semblance of sanity… I want to disappear."

Orihime gasped.

"Don't worry, Orihime," I said. "The sword helps them pass on, into the next life."

Orihime swallowed. Smiled tearfully. Nodded.

Sora went to make the movement, and Orihime said, "Wait! There's something I've always wanted to say. You bought me these hairpins, and I called them childish. We had an argument, and I let you go off to work the next morning without saying anything… That was the last time I would see you alive.

"So, I want to say now, what I've always wanted to say: 'Oniichan. Have a nice day.'"

Sora smiled. "Yeah," he said quietly. "I'm off now."

He pierced himself with the sword, and dissolved in a whirl of blue. The sword fell to the ground, silent.

* * *

I healed Tatsuki's shoulder in a flash of blue as Rukia placed Orihime's living soul back in her body. Then, just as Orihime was about to ask questions, Rukia placed a little device in front of her face and issued a puff of smoke. Orihime fell over, unconscious.

"Hey, what the hell -?" Tatsuki began, backing up, just before Rukia went over and did a puff in front of her face too.

"... Rukia," I said flatly. "If you just drugged my friends I'll kill you."

"Don't be silly," said Rukia matter of factly. "It's called memory replacement. But some of the memories can be a bit random, according to people's imaginations… I used it on your sisters and your neighbors, too. You'll see what I mean tomorrow."

* * *

"No, really!" Orihime was insisting the next morning at school. "A yakuza gunman totally came and, like, blasted a huge hole in the side of my house!"

Everyone thought it was Orihime's imagination playing tricks on her again.

"Hime-chan, your daydreaminess is so adorable," said Chizuru condescendingly.

"At least try to make it a little realistic," said Mahana disbelievingly.

"Actually…" I sighed. I couldn't believe I was about to say this. "It happened. We were there too."

And they all just gave me this Look. I wished I could give it to myself right now, to be honest.

"Yup!" said Rukia cheerfully. "It happened!"

"Yeah…" Tatsuki admitted. "I was there."

"If you guys are playing a prank, this is the worst prank _ever_!" exclaimed Chizuru, pouting.

Rukia and I exchanged a look. We both glanced away, trying not to laugh.

"I knew it! It _is_ a prank!"

In the end, no one believed us.


End file.
